For Years upon Years, the Hill People and the rest of the world have been at odds, earth magic battling against the higher white magic of Merlin and his ilk. When at last the heathens were pushed into the Bay of Caskell, the sacrifice of Jans, the leader of the Hill People, ensured that they would forever be entrenched on that tiny peninsula, always to pollute the world with their filthy presence. It would take magic of some kind to undo a spell that powerful...
-excerpt from "Battle of Caskell", author unknown.
He had been summoned a few hours after sleepy dawn into a war council. Duo swallowed as Treize paced the length of the room before him, his boots turning in a grinding file. At the window stood Zechs, staring out at the pouring rain. It seemed to play a song that only the fat droplets knew, though they tried to convey the music by pressing their faces against the glass.
"Lord Ralph does not wish Sanquadia to become more involved than necessary," said Duo. "But entire countries have fallen to the Hill People, their bizarre rituals and ways of worship corrupting good society. Women bind their hair with dyed ribbons, instead of cutting it. They claim their earthly power is bound within the long strands; earthly power, of course, being that of the Hill People. Young men desert towns and cities, leaving the places they knew and the people they loved for the higher love of the Ramsha Earth God. There are wolves, now, where before there were none. Pastoral Country stands alone in the wilderness."
"We cannot afford more troops."
"You cannot afford to let Pastoral Country fall," said Duo hotly. "The resurgence of the Hill People is most peculiar," he added, afraid to let the silence between them grow too large. "It is as if they suddenly conquered all boundaries of magic, mixing earth and white. Very strange. I have heard," he said, playing his final card, "that there were fireball scorches seen at the sites of battles." Treize stiffened.
"You will not say that to anyone else," he said, growling a bit. "You dare not imply more than you know."
"I speak only what I know," agreed Duo.
Zechs rested a hand on Treize's shoulder, and for a moment, Duo had the feeling he was watching more than brothers touching. Then the blonde broke away, and the moment was lost in the scattering sound of rain on the slate roof. From above, he suspected the entire city looked like a sleeping dragon or watersnake, the shingles overlaid like fish scales.
"One of the masters who once lived here," he continued, "was famous for perfecting the art of the fireball, correct? Of course, it is such a terrible thing; the scrolls speak only of the Firetongue. The only man who ever managed to use them in battle without being consumed by the backlash."
"Woman," murmured Zechs. "It was a woman. Her name was Dorothy. She was one of the masters, yes. But her ambition drove her mad." As if to prove his point, a shrieking cry of misery rose up to them from the bottom of the tower, echoing around the twists of the stairs.
"No more," said Treize, looking sharply at Zechs. "There is much to consider, and we haven't much time. No, not much time at all. By the Gods..." He trailed off, mumbling to himself, his blue eyes unfocused. His brow was heavy with lines; Duo wondered if each fold of skin had a particular reason and meaning. It seemed, more and more, that he could take nothing for granted.
"Of course," said Duo after an awkward moment. He stood, resisting the urge to pat down his braid, the loose hairs electrified by the heat that jumped in flea sparks from his fingers to his eyelashes, settling there for a hair's breath before dancing down his spine. This place really is alive, he thought.
"Of course," said Zechs. Duo felt as if he were being let in on a big secret; the blonde had momentarily thrown aside the curtains, and what laid on the stage was too horrible to even mention. The room was suddenly too much, the thickness of the air heavy with moisture and a rotting despair that permeated everything. He took a long swallow from the goblet, and nearly choked on the taste of anguish that had wrapped itself around the wine.
Then the rain gods began to pound their war drums, their thunderous music echoing in Duo's ears, and the moment passed. "Maxwell," said Zechs, leading him to the door. "We thank you for your help."
A servant was waiting to lead him back to his rooms. Duo didn't wonder if that wasn't the way the Triumvirate kept tabs on everyone. How dangerous could an assassin be if they lost their way a dozen times a minute? "Where does that passage lead?" he asked, pointing randomly at a winding hall covered partially by velvet strips hung from the arch of the entrance.
The servant girl paused. "I do not know," she said.
"What about that one?" he tried again, pointing to a wooden door with no doorknob. "Is that a storage closet, or something else? A room? Who lives there?"
She glared at him, walking a bit faster. "I do not know," she said. "I am not given access to such things." Duo snarled under his breath, lengthening his strides to keep up. "It is not for servants to know such things. Especially not women," she said.
Duo was almost amused by her self-deprecating stance before shame overtook the comedy of the situation. A woman gave birth to you, he reminded himself. A woman was your beginning, and with any luck--
"Good day, m'lady," he said, winking as a pretty dark-haired noblewoman strolled by on the arm of her escort. The neckline of her red dress plunged deep between her breasts, the tempting triangle of flesh mimicking another, more intimate, one.
She smiled at him from beneath a fringe of short bangs, encrusted with black opals. "And down that hall?" He craned his neck around the corner, but saw only a dead end of packed stone. "Did the stone collapse?"
The girl blanched. "Sir, you're not to go down that way. There's nothing there, anyway," she said. "Just a false passage."
"False passage?" Duo reached out to rub his hand against the stone, contemplating exploring the short hallway further. Taunting him, the voice had reappeared in his mind. He wasn't sure f it was because the singing had returned, or because his subconscious had been eager to connect the two mysteries. "You make them sound commonplace."
"They are," she said, tapping her foot against the floor. Her voice rose exponentially with every step Duo took. "Sir, I must insist--"
"Maxwell."
He froze in place, feeling cold eyes fixing themselves to his spine. "Lord Wufei," he said, unsure as to how he should address the prince. The older man stood leaning against the wall in a sleeveless silk tunic, a gold armband contracting with every ripple of his muscles.
"Lost again, Maxwell?" Duo shrugged.
"Just exploring the castle a bit," said Duo. "Trying to orient myself." He wished after that he hadn't used that particular word; it might have been seen as a hidden jab at Wufei's ancestry. The other man merely laughed, the sound unusually thin from such a solid man. It was as if the flesh were rivermud compounded and fallen in on itself, constricting his throat.
"You needn't bother. There's no way you could ever hope to master these walls in the time that you'll be with us." Wufei smiled; Duo expected fangs, but saw only white teeth that had been ground flat. He learned while growing up in the country that friendly beasts had planed teeth, for they were herbivores and ate only plants, not people. This was opposed to man-eaters, who kept their mouths full of sharp canines.
"I was wondering what was down that hall," said Duo.
"Nothing you'd care to see," said Wufei, examining his thick metal bracelets. They were more like cuffs; gold, engraved with some pictures that Duo couldn't see from where he was standing. "And if you do see, more than likely you'll want to leave before you're able." Then Wufei, like everything else in the god-forsaken place, merely melted away, leaving no trace that he had ever been there.
The door hadn't even shut behind Duo before Howard started in on him, regaling him with outlandish and scandalous tales of court behavior. "Young Duo," he said, toying absently with a pink flower, some kind of annual that looked too green to have been picked with a careful eye. "Did you hear that Lady Relena and Lady Hilde are having an affair, right beneath their husbands' noses?"
"Lady Relena is married?" said Duo, laughing as he poured himself a glass of water. "You would never have known. Is her husband a young man, off fighting in some distant land? Playing the hero, saving scantily-clad damsels in distress?"
"Try wretchedly old, on his last bed," said Howard. "The Reaper orders his death once, then a stay, and then condemns him all over again. She cavorts around without caring a whit, for those who marry without love rejoice when their mates die." Duo set down his glass more firmly than he would have liked to. Loud noises were beginning to grate on his nerves.
"She has done her duty as a noble. The rest matters not," he said coolly, ignoring Howard's pointed stare. You dare not speak his name, thought Duo. Gerald is gone. He is *gone*.
"Lady Hilde's husband was rumored to be Treize's lover for some time," said Howard, raising an eyebrow. "She too does what she wishes. What a woman," he said, sighing with longing. The flower was still turning over in his hands, long petals drooping from being handled by mortal hands too long.
"Other news?"
"Yes," said Howard, with the determination of those who have a great juicy bit of information, "I've heard that Odin's finalized marriage plans with the Shah of the Islands, Rashid. Quite the _scandal_," he said, relishing every word. "He's an old man of thirty with two wives, and he's a slip of a boy. Hasn't been outside castle walls in ages."
"Really," said Duo.
"Oh, yes," said Howard. "But wait, here's the best part: Lady Meiran, and I'm telling you, Master Duo, this woman knows her business, says that Heero's brother opposes the match. Trowa, I mean," he said. "Who knows what that other one thinks?"
"Of course, who knows?"
"Apparently, he's stirred the entire castle into such a dusty commotion that Lord Treize and Lord Zechs overruled their brother and called in a matchmaker to quiet him a bit. Matchmakers; you can't believe what any of them say. They're just in it for the money." Howard snorted. "Though I'd wager that Odin's putting off announcing the betrothal so he can keep accepting generous gifts from suitors. That man..." He shook his finger, apparently forgetting his own warnings about the walls having ears. "He'll be the death of his child," he said.
"Well, I imagine that it won't be anything the little git doesn't deserve," said Duo, balancing his goblet on the tip of his finger.
"You've really got it in for this boy," said Howard. "I can't even remember the last time you were this hostile to someone you'd never met." From his seat by the window, he could watch all the people going by in the courtyard below. "Aye, darling!" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth. "I love the way you fetch water!"
"I just think that he's a fool for accepting tradition," said Duo. "It's demeaning--"
"What d'you know of demeaning?" asked Howard. "You've never seen half the filth of humanity that I have. Have you ever shoveled shit, Master Duo?" The younger man sighed; sometimes, he didn't wonder if Howard merely addressed him as 'Master' to take the sting away from a cutting comment made beforehand.
"Human shit?" said Howard. Duo jumped up, making his way into the bathroom. He was going to take a nice, long bath in steaming hot water, and try to scrub the day from his skin. "I'm just saying," said Howard as Duo slammed the door, "that sometimes, folks don't have a choice! Fate does with you what she wants, and you can rage against it, or you can make it better!"
His words floated away in a haze of steam, as water from an open dipper suspended over the shower poured down into the porcelain tub. Duo closed his eyes and let himself slip far away, back home to a house that was achingly familiar, with halls that stayed the same no matter what, a father who was alive and still supervising the kitchen staff with a watchful eye, and his lover, who held him in his arms and whispered how beautiful he was, how terribly beautiful it all was.
End Part Three
Bianca
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