Chapter 12.1 (You Can't Go Home, But You Can't Stay Here)

Author's Notes: 3,577 words.  Edited on request.

The army had no time to waste, so a stray fisherman or two observed a cloud of dust when the sun poked out from the eastern sky. Horses strained to move heavy carts and wagons, several still being loaded with supplies, weapons, and other odds and ends of camp life. The clanging of swords being thrown about was matched by the smells of Ceinen’s incense as he carried it from his own small tent in a box. Men shouted and strained as officers walked about and watched the proceedings, checking to assure all that was needed had been gathered. The largest tents, though partly-burned, were dismantled as their wooden supports were pulled away by teams, the canvas folded and neatly carried to where they would be carted southwards. Observing all of this from the vantage of a clear sky, Aquila marveled at the efficiency and swiftness by which Alarick’s army dismantled their very living spaces.

He swooped lower, eyes attentively picking out armored men and women in the crowds. Jonathan, still inexplicably covered in a layer of dust, had taken to standing atop a wagon and hauling up heavy objects. The gray-haired man – Latton? - he had been told was the replacement for Terasu was not among his own soldiers, but directing the bowed, quiet Terasu from her tent. Terasu kicked the earth in frustration. Aquila, having heard of what had happened to her boyfriend, felt immense sympathy. Before he could plummet from the sky and see if he could give her a hug, of course, he heard a whistle from the ground far beneath him.

Madeleine had now taken to wearing black trousers and a brown shirt with an orange scarf. She looked intensely stern – arms-crossed, hair pulled back, shooting a deadly glare - as the eagle shot downwards, slowing down and landing gracefully upon the ground. In his half-form, the eagle had the body of a man, covered with feathers and wearing green shorts and a sash, rising to a few inches lower than Madeleine. His claws dug into the earth briefly, leaving him to squawk and extricate himself as he otherwise stood obediently, chest puffed out and head held high. Madeleine nodded in appreciation before returning her gaze to Alarick.

“Are you happy with yourself?” she said, poking the leader in the chest as he stood in front of his tent, itself abuzz with the activity that consumed the camp. Alarick looked impatient and tense, tapping a boot on the ground and crossing his own arms. There was no hint of a sneer or contempt on his face, however, as his sagged face and weary, partly-closed, reddened eyes indicated. Unshaven and dressed in gray pants, a black coat with silver lining and a gray interior, behind which was a blue undershirt, he came across as imposing and grand until one looked at his face. Aquila thus focused on the shining pins on his coat, extolling his successful military campaigns.

“She’s fine,” Alarick said forcefully. “She woke up within a minute and was responsive thereafter.”

To his and Aquila’s surprise, she slapped him across the face. “And don’t you think there is a problem?” Madeleine said, paling and placing her hands behind her back. “Over the past week, Eremia has wiped herself out, given a chance to relax, and repeated it all over again. After the day before yesterday, I am convinced she’s hurt her head fighting that thing. Jonathan had the respect to give her time to relax and rest, but you are still placing too much stress on her too quickly. Don’t you see that it is damaging her? Isn’t it my job to care about that?”

Now nervous, Aquila watched the two with a frantic expression in his eyes. Alarick rubbed the sore spot on his cheek and sighed. “She’s done it to herself. If what I know is correct, she and her brother left their home willingly. We were only late to the show. As for the second time, did you expect this? Did you expect her brother to turn into some kind of…monster? What I’m doing now is to keep her safe, because she’s clearly in danger.”

Madeleine grumbled something under her breath. Aquila gasped quietly, having heard a strong epithet, and Alarick’s eyes swiveled to him. In response, he cowered behind Madeleine, who was now focused intently on the ground. “We had to teach Jonathan quickly,” Alarick said, waving his arms in the air in frustration. “Terasu threatened to set us on fire, but she learned how to be a member of this army and fight for herself. Even Ceinen, despite your concerns, acclimated quickly. Why can’t she-”

Her eyes, now fiery, shot up at the mentioning of Ceinen’s name. Pointing sternly, she said, “You’re no doctor, and how dare you consider your solution to her health better than mine when you can’t take care of your own. The amount of stress she’s going to will give her fainting spells, and I fear that her head injury will only make her that much more susceptible to them. I do not want to drive the daughter of one of our most important allies – whether we like those allies or not – to fall dead before your “training” is complete. None of the others have had these problems, and you need to remember two of them could already fight. As for Ceinen, I thought he was too emotionally unstable for the role, but it turned into a happy escape for him.”

“So, what do I do?” said Alarick, clenching his teeth. “Let her servant or Jonathan do the work for her? Convince her she needs no work ethic and keep her vulnerable?”

“If it keeps her alive, then I say yes” said Madeleine firmly, brushing off Aquila’s feathery hands from her shoulders. “From what I have seen, she’s a smart girl with a good, if undeveloped, grasp of magic, and as studious and devoted as her parents. She needs to ease her way into the position, but I know that she can do everything you ask of her, and more, if you only wait for her to recover. In the meantime, I have seen her servant, and I know that man will fight to the death for her. He told me himself.”

By now, a trio of men and women had gathered behind Alarick, looking with concerned expressions at him as they held up boxes or pieces of parchment. They seemed defensive and a bit frightened, shrinking back and sagging under the weight of what they were carrying, but said nor did nothing. Alarick, out of the corner of his eye, spotted them. He sighed and turned around to address their silent questions, saying clearly to Madeleine, “On the condition that she be trained as her injuries lessen, I will let you do what you want. Though she is under your command, do not forget that you are under mine, and I need by army in the best shape if I want to protect a sieged city.”

Aquila could see, with the way Madeleine stood still and firm, that she was infuriated. He jumped back in alarm as she said, “That was my plan to begin with. How nice of you to have considered that,” before swiveling around and marching off. Snapping her fingers once and loudly, calling Aquila to follow her, Madeleine stormed her way through the disassembling camp and rows of horses and wagons passing by. One last glance to Alarick showed him taking no heed to her leaving, as he was instead focused on pointing soldiers in the right direction and pouring through papers. Then, moving lightly enough to not embed his claws into the earth, Aquila obeyed.

They proceeded among the dust and clouds for only a minute or two before the still-enraged Madeleine began to slow down. “Where are they?” she asked to Aquila as she jumped over a crate, he walking around it.

Aquila closed his eyes and tried to remember what he had seen earlier. He found himself rooted in the ground, and struggling to pull himself out again broke his concentration. Still, annoyed as he was, Aquila spotted a wagon with a tall pole atop it, which had not moved since he last saw it. Using it as a marker, he pointed in one direction and nodded his head. The lady swiveled herself around and strode down a dirt path. Fists balled, staring through the dust in search of her destination, Madeleine marched on. Soldiers parted while Aquila kept three paces behind her.

“You have a human form,” said Madeleine in a voice that tried, and failed, to be soft after Aquila once again rooted himself into the earth. Feeling embarrassed by this comment, Aquila shifted immediately, watching as the feathers disappeared from his skin and his senses waned. On the whole, he wasn’t happy with reducing his exceptional vision and hearing in favor of the bland ones of human beings; beyond walking slightly faster, what was the point in allowing himself to be surrounded by this dust and noise and be unable to make sense of it? However, she, for the time, was his general, and he never said ill about his generals. Also, she was in the middle of asking another question: “Do you know what I like about you?”

“Umm…no?” said Aquila, ducking beneath an empty stretcher carried by two soldiers. One of them shouted in disapproval as Aquila sped up and caught up with her.

After a few steps further, halted briefly by a soldier marching past, Madeleine gave a reply. “You are a quiet and straightforward man. Best of all, you know when to listen to your commanders on topics that they know best about.”

Something about this conversation made Aquila uneasy. Madeleine reminded him somewhat of his old commander, who was well-known for being a control freak. Nevertheless, she was correct about his obedience. “Thank you?”

“Everyone is so adamant about having his or her way,” she continued, slamming a fist onto her open palm. “They are all convinced that they must work until they collapse, as doing otherwise would threaten this army. Even Jonathan is hard to stop; no matter how long he’s been fighting, he wants to take the first watch, or list commands for his soldiers, or dig holes, or get food for the horses, or all of the above. As such, he’s always dirty.”

“They’re all…” began Aquila, struggling to find the word in his head.

Madeleine found the answer for him. “Work addicts,” she said resolutely, dodging a horse racing past. “I hadn’t though so many could be in one place. Each one of them is so emotionally troubled that they must do everything to run away from their problems. Rowland is dead, and my idiot of a leader can’t even make a public statement. All he does these days is plot the safest routes and conscript Eremia into his little charade. Perhaps it is to keep her from going mad as well.” Taking a deep breath, she coughed and waved a hand in the air, futility pushing aside the dust. “Do you have any hidden emotional baggage I should know about?”

He looked down at the pebbles on the ground. “Not much before my last mission.”

Madeleine watched as Aquila slowed and moved behind her. “Bullying? Prejudice? Angry family member? Dead family member?” Aquila was uncomfortable with these prodding questions and the firmness with which Madeleine asked him. Did she consider everyone in the world so dysfunctional?

“Some bullying,” he confessed after a minute of tense silence, with her casting constant glances to see his expression. “My family history is odd. Why…um…why…?”

“After the families I’ve seen and been a part of, I swear I won’t laugh at anything you say. I’m being rude, but I’m losing my patience. After the past few days, I find that my advice has, once more, been cast aside, and my new apprentice has passed out because Jonathan wanted to train her. All the generals are either falling apart or working their way to it, and this brilliantly stupid army expects me to come in and fix their problems with a wave of my hand. Perhaps I’m a hypocrite with my own tragic backstory plastered on and an impulsive desire to control everyone about me to hide from it. But I’m still the best healer and medical expert they have, so I’d rather they listen to me than drive themselves into their own graves!”

Aquila was well aware of the true center of the conversation, and he let his new general seethe in her firm steps and solid gaze while he remained ever behind. When he caught her looking at him from the corner of her eye, he remembered her request. “Well…” he began, pausing and wondering if he should eat up more time by stammering. Madeleine stopped and stood aside so that he might walk alongside her. Sighing, he said, “it’s not who raised me. My parents are good. It’s who I was born to.”

“…Oh. Are you a hybrid, then?” said Madeleine in a soft, almost underwhelmed tone.

Before Aquila, sweating and staring harder at the ground, could response, a voice called out, “Lovely! You will be a marvelous fit!”

Madeleine sighed and placed her hands in her pockets. After a few seconds, a young lady emerged from beside a small box to their right. Her auburn hair spilled behind her, reaching down to her waist. Wearing a blue dress tightened at the midsection with a small leather strap, as well as sandals woven out of what looked like reeds, she beamed with the aid of her amber eyes as she approached. Aquila noticed her slightly protruding nose and how her eyesight focused on the two of them before sighting figures behind them, ears twitching with each step of a passing soldier.

Shorter than even Aquila, the young lady was dwarfed by Madeleine, but rose a hand. “Katerina,” said Madeleine, taking her hand from one of her pockets and shaking the young lady’s. “I had expected as much.”

Choosing not to let go, Katerina began to lead Madeleine away from the north and towards the east. “They come to us rather often, you see,” the former explained to an unnerved and surprised Aquila, who ran briefly to keep up. “It’s hard to spot one unless they tell you as much themselves, as they can always hide in one form, but men and women are jerks to hybrids. We’re known best for our hospitality” – Madeleine laughed briefly – “so they join us.”

Aquila, frightened, was tempted to raise his voice and declare his hybrid status to be untrue, in the hope that all those in earshot might believe him and carry on without suspicion. However, to his surprise, Katerina dominated the conversation by turning to look at Madeleine and asking eagerly, “Why didn’t you tell me you had brought a princess?”

“You know that we cannot normally allow apprentices to attend such key meetings,” said Madeleine strictly.

Katerina could only laugh in response. “Yep, I knew it. Alarick didn’t invite me, did he? I guess he was afraid that I would tell you something you didn’t wish to know.” Twirling, she suddenly embraced a teenage girl with blonde hair and green eyes. “Isn’t she so nice, though? Far more gracious than the last one.”

They had entered a small space centered by a fire pit covered in wet ashes, last tendrils of smoke lost among the sea of dust. Ceinen was sitting on the back of one of the wagons, staring absent-mindedly before he spotted Madeleine and eagerly patted the wood beside him, looking quite cheery. Also of note was Yorew, who stood right behind Eremia and inched his imposing hands closer to Katerina’s shoulders. For her part, Eremia, with her frazzled hair and wild-eyed expression, seemed unhappy and awkward. She saw Aquila and glared at him in fury, causing him to recoil and hide behind Madeleine, limbs feeling heavy and weak.

“Oh?” said Madeleine through gritted teeth. “What, exactly, did he want to hide?”

In her cheery way, Katerina let go of her embrace, as Yorew’s hands were now a few inches from her neck. “My sources tell me that Alarick told Jonathan that the princess here was to be treated as a normal member of the army in case her brother were to come back.”

Everyone watched Madeleine’s face convulse with rage. “Then do be sure to tell Jonathan, when you next see him, that the plan has changed. Eremia will be trained under my supervision. She will, for now, only do what she wants to do.” Taking a few deep breathes and correcting her slight slouch to stand at her full height, Madeleine continued. “I assume that Ceinen has already told her of you?”

In the background, the man in question, now in his deer half-form, nodded his head fervently. Katerina pointed to him before facing Eremia and curtsying. “Now that you’re aware who I am, we have the issue of leaving. I hope it won’t be rude if I come with you,” Katerina said to Eremia, looking at Madeleine after every few words.

“Yes!” said Ceinen in agreement, his voice dimmed by their surroundings and in between fits of coughing. “The girl – the girl – the… - Katerina! needs a friend of her own age. A…a…peer!”

Madeleine raised an eyebrow and focused her gaze on Eremia, who, after a few seconds of staring at the ground, returned it. Yorew, standing austerely, gave not a single hint that he had any opinion on the matter, so Aquila saw Madeleine overlook Yorew entirely. Appearing to be lost in thought, a sudden realization came to Eremia, leading her to start and nod in Madeleine’s direction. Unsure and uneased by what exactly this revelation was, as indicated by her raised eyebrow and confused stare, Madeleine apparently saw no particular harm in it. “Fine,” she said at last, causing Katerina to breathe a deep sigh of relief. “You may accompany Eremia and her servant.”

At this, Katerina jumped up and embraced Eremia again, pulling her towards a wagon that appeared to be stuffed with blankets, boxes, and drawers, all situated under a beige tarp. Before he had a chance to see what would happen next, Aquila jumped back in surprise as Madeleine whirled around. “I will need you to sit beside the driver and pay close attention to whatever they say,” she whispered to him. “You have better hearing as an eagle, but pick whichever form is more convenient to you.”

Aquila nodded, though he felt uncomfortable to be watching one of his royals by the command of someone who was not. As Madeleine walked away, he watched as his princess pulled herself into the wagon, following Katerina, who helped heave her up. Eremia cast a wayward glance at Aquila and frowned, though it was mixed with some confusion. Nevertheless, Aquila got the unfriendly message. Yorew stood, observing Aquila with those eerie eyes of his. Then Yorew suddenly swiveled around and jumped onto the back of the wagon, causing it to creak and bend momentarily (to both girls’ consternation). Aquila sagged his shoulders and walked away, still staring at the ground. He ignored Madeleine as she passed him, though she did not respond.

The driver himself was unremarkable. For a second, Aquila looked at the teenager and his drab clothes and assumed him to be Jonathan. Consumed by rage, he summarily realized that the man wasn’t dirty and had black hair, and was also shorter. By then, however, he had angrily leaped onto the front of the wagon, shifted into his eagle half-form, and propped his legs against the board separating them from the two horses, both standing still. The man gave him a few odd looks, but coughed and pulled on the reigns. They moved slowly at first, the driver attempting to navigate his way through a sea of similar wagons and marching soldiers. However, when it soon became clear that everyone was heading in the same direction, it was a simple matter of turning to the right and following the trail of footprints and hoofprints.

The challenge, for Aquila, was trying to focus on the noises emanating from the wagon, drowned out heavily by his surroundings. He could first hear someone say, “It’s great to have someone else to talk to!” That was Katerina; she always had a chipper tone and a light voice.

“I though the generals had other apprentices?” Since the tall man almost never spoke, it wasn’t hard to guess who was.

“You would imagine, but they’ve never been enthusiastic about it. They’ve done their jobs, and they don’t really feel the need to bring in new blood, especially when it doesn’t last.”

“Ah…Rowland.” The name popped again into Aquila’s mind; he had been briefed of the young man when he was notified of his duties. Poor soul.

“Yes. They all weep for him, you know, as have I. He was immature, but really a nice man. Jonathan and Terasu trained with him under Alarick, and the three of them had a bond like siblings. Now, I think it’s best we relax and watch the road, because you never can know who exactly is listening, can you?”

Aquila gasped, but covered his mouth. Whatever they were doing next was lost among the wave of sound. She was too smart for her own good.