The bombings had seemed to calm the Baknamy's wrath for the time being. Each day, Dalmascan and Archadian ships showered the grounds of the Deadlands with bombs. But knowing that a Hume was the one goading the Baknamy, Ashe could not yet be sure if the man's bloodlust was sated.
It had been nearly two weeks since the attacks in Giza, and while the security in Rabanastre remained heightened, the people of her capital seemed to be returning to some semblance of calm. In light of the attacks occurring so close to Rabanastre, the peace council had traveled north to Archades. Ashe was secretly glad for their departure. It was one less group of people urging her to march an army into the Deadlands to slaughter the Baknamy.
Lord Erran remained in Rabanastre, where he had been heading up efforts to find members of the Talon Order. There had only been four others besides himself, so tracking down the men was not going to be a problem. One man had been found in Nalbina, crippled by the war. His alibi was solid, having been unable to move from his lodgings without agonizing pain for the past few years. Another man was dead and buried near Balfonheim. Only two remained at large: Forres Hema and Lathan Ariz.
Town registers were being scoured across Ivalice in hopes of finding one of the men mentioned. Ashe had even sent word to the new rulers of Rozarria for their assistance. Erran had slept very little, spending most days and nights looking over registers himself in hopes of finding the men or discerning if they were living under an assumed name. Fortunately, Rosa had arrived from Mount Bur-Omisace and seemed to be very effective at helping Erran and keeping him calm. She was humble but charming with a quick wit. Erran had had no outbursts since that day in Giza, and Ashe was very happy for the young woman's presence in the palace.
As Ashe sat to supper that evening, she envied the open relationship Erran and Rosa could enjoy. Lord Erran had no Tylo of his own to chastise him. The Queen pretended to be very interested in the contents of her wine glass as Erran and Rosa joked and touched hands, completely comfortable with one another and unashamed.
"It is just like the time you tried to go garuda hunting with that stupid axe," the young woman teased, her dark gray eyes sparkling in amusement.
"What's this then?" Ashe inquired, and Rosa turned to her with a broad smile. Ashe knew that the young woman had been very hesitant around her earlier, but Rosa was growing a great deal more comfortable as she passed her days in Rabanastre.
Rosa gave Erran a slight jostle in the ribs with her elbow. "An axe! Can you believe it? He just was not thinking that day! I found him in a big snow drift an hour later. One of those enormous birds just slapped him aside with its wing like he was a fly!"
Ashe laughed at the thought, and Erran looked away in embarrassment. It appeared to make him a bit uncomfortable to see Rosa and Ashe spend most of their time teasing him. The Nabradian changed the topic then away from himself. "Ashelia, I received a message from the kiltias this afternoon. There was no mention of Hema or Ariz in the ledgers of pilgrims to the mountain."
Ashe sighed. Where were these men? One of them was responsible for the murder of so many, and the other needed to be cleared of suspicion so they could focus their plans. Their answer came sooner than expected. A messenger arrived bearing an envelope. Even from across the room, the Queen could see that horrible symbol serving as a seal to the message held within.
She stood and moved to take it from the messenger's hand. "Wait! Don't touch it!" Rosa screamed, rising from her seat so fast she tipped it back onto the ground with a crash.
Ashe snapped her hand away in surprise at the young woman's insistence. "What? Rosa, what is it?" she asked.
The young woman looked at her pleadingly. "It could be poisoned!" Erran burst out laughing at Rosa's suggestion, and she scowled at him. "It could be! I read it in a story before!"
The Queen smiled at Rosa's attempt to protect her. "I thank you, Rosa. It is very possible for mail to be tampered with, but if this message was laced in poison, I believe our poor messenger would not be alive here to hand it to us."
The young woman's cheeks burned in embarrassment, and she bowed humbly. Rosa had grown up as a refugee on the mountain and had known nothing but its tents and the snows of Paramina. Erran had said she was a bit inclined to believe everything she read, and Ashe remembered a time in her own life where she had known nothing but the palace. She could definitely understand Rosa's outburst. Ashe took the message from the messenger and dismissed him.
She frowned at the bird image and tore the envelope apart. "It appears we can call off the search for Forres Hema, Erran," she intoned softly, her eyes reading the message. The words burned, the pure venom behind them as harsh as any poison.
Ashelia B'Nargin,
Your bombs only incite my forces to carry out further attacks. Nabudis fell and was forgotten. It is still forgotten. Yet you make no reprisal against the Archadian. You fail Lord Rasler. You fail Nabradia. You who are her legal queen, you call for peace to wash away the sins of the Solidor. For this grave betrayal, I will see your streets awash with blood. Your people will know the suffering of Nabradia, as I know her suffering.
You will meet me at the Necrohol in a fortnight's time. If you will restore Nabradia and destroy the Solidor, I will consider a cessation of hostilities. If you will do naught, I will see the talons of our eagle carved into your flesh by my own hand.
His Majesty's Eternal Servant,
Lathan Ariz
Ashe felt her hand shake at the threat-laden missive, and Erran rose from his seat. "What does it say?" he asked quietly, and she handed it to him. She watched him read it and saw the anger rise inside him once more, his fingers gripping the letter tightly. Wordlessly, Rosa stood beside him and put her hand on his forearm.
The man's anger seemed to lessen at her touch, and the Queen was grateful for her presence. Erran set the letter down on the table and met her eyes. "He was the best of us, Ashelia. He was an honorable man."
She shook her head. "An honorable man living in the ruins of a capital he swore to protect. A man who has lived in the mist. Who knows how much it has twisted him?" she replied, the angry letter only inches away. It lay on the table, the words within it swirling in her mind now as well as on the page. You fail Lord Rasler. You fail Nabradia.
"What will you do, my lady?" Rosa asked, her hand still a calming presence on Erran's arm. "He threatens your life."
That was a very good question, she thought sadly. "It is not the first time my life has been threatened," she mused. That was not what scared her…not entirely. Your people will know the suffering of Nabradia.
Before she realized it, Erran had insinuated himself right in front of her. "You are not thinking of negotiating with this monster?" he asked incredulously, his eyes desperately seeking hers.
"Negotiating? No, I would not call it that," she answered, still pondering what she was to do about this situation. She thought of the butchered Urutan, of the women and children of Giza. "I will meet with my council. Perhaps I can convince them to pursue this matter without bombs or invasion forces."
Erran and Rosa followed her to Tylo's chamber, and her council was summoned immediately. The letter was read aloud, the murmuring of the old men harsh to her ears. Hearing the words spoken was like uttering a forbidden curse. The room seemed cold to her, and she struggled with the thought of that hideous eagle being carved on her flesh. If such a threat came to fruition, would she still be alive when it was done? Would it feel like the talons of a bird crushing her?
"My lady? You are unwell."
"What? No. No, I am fine, just tired," she heard herself reply to Tylo's inquiry. She must have been in a daze, and she blinked, snapping back to as regal a demeanor as she could muster. It would not do to show weakness, especially with what she had decided.
Another minister cleared his throat. "We do not negotiate with this Ariz. Do we step up the bombings in Nabudis? Would you wish for ground troops, my lady?"
"No," she said, looking around between each face on the council. They were not going to like this. "No, I will go to Nabudis in a fortnight's time. And I will go alone."
-----------------------------
"If I'd have known the Dalmascan taxpayers were going to be coughing up their hard-earned gil to refit the Strahl, I would have volunteered this ship years ago," Balthier muttered as the blue skies over the Salikawood grew hazier, the wretched Deadlands growing nearer.
Fran smirked at his comment. "Preparing for silent running," she responded, flipping several newly installed switches on her side of the console. The ship shuddered slightly, the control panel flickering. Balthier gripped the controls nervously. Perhaps they should have tested the new cloak before flying all the way to Nabradia?
The lights in the cockpit went out, only the emergency lights remaining. "Silent running," he mumbled, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The old cloak was more of a parking safety measure for the Strahl. Now the latest technology, courtesy of the Draklor Laboratory and Queen Ashelia's citizens, kept the Strahl under cloak during flight. If he wasn't petrified by the thought of his ship blowing up, Balthier would take the time to enjoy the new device. It would make pillaging far easier in future.
But thinking about the Strahl blowing up in midair was far easier on his mind than the contents of that blasted letter from that Talon Order crackpot. Ashe was far more frightened of that damned letter than she let on, and he, Fran and Vaan had been given the delightful task of pulling reconnaissance. Though she had fought hard for it, her council had refused to allow her to travel to the Deadlands alone. Bombings would continue over Nabudis as if the letter had never arrived, but on this day, Ashe had sent him and the Strahl on a special mission.
On paper, and as far as her council knew, the Strahl was conducting an official reconnaissance mission. They were to fly as low as possible, the new cloak technology rendering them undetectable. They would be able to assess the damage the Dalmascan and Archadian forces had done to the Deadlands and the Necrohol. But Ashe had entrusted him and Fran with a different task. They were to focus mainly on the Necrohol itself, determining the best possible place for her to send a covert group to assassinate Lathan Ariz.
Balthier hoped that Ashe herself would not be stupid enough to risk her own life and go with them, and each time he had confronted her about it, she denied having an interest in doing so. Ashe, however, was often a terrible liar, but the sky pirate had let it slide for the time being. The Queen was under a lot of pressure from her council, even more so with the threat against her life from Ariz himself.
The dreaded "m" and "h" words, "marriage" and "heir" respectively, had become a repetitive topic of her latest daily meetings now that there was an official written threat to her life. But when Balthier had urged her to officially announce their relationship to get the council off her back, Ashe had refused. To publicly announce him as her consort or lover or whatever he was would make him a target for Ariz and the Baknamy as well. Balthier did not care one bit if he became a target, but Ashe had looked utterly terrified at the idea, and he backed down.
Surprisingly silent until then, Vaan rose from his seat behind them and looked out as the misty Deadlands surrounded the Strahl. "Are we really invisible to them?" the young man asked.
The sky pirate nodded. "Well, for all intents and purposes, yes. But the Strahl has a tail pipe if you recall, so they may be able to detect our exhaust. We are flying at the lowest possible threshold, but nobody's perfect."
Vaan gripped the back of his seat and inhaled sharply as some of the mist parted, and the Necrohol became visible in the distance. "You can see where the bombs hit," he mumbled.
Balthier felt himself grin uncontrollably at Vaan's words. "Well, the place was already in ruins before they bombed it, Vaan. It's just a bit more untidy now." Truthfully, the sky pirate was amazed that even with over two weeks of daily bombing runs, the Necrohol remained defiantly standing. A testament to centuries of sturdy Nabradian craftsmanship, the outer walls were marred but intact. Flying a low pass over the extent of the remnants of the Verdpale Palace, it looked like the best possible fortress a madman could hope for.
The bombings had done a great deal of damage though. Certain parts of the palace were decimated, probably preventing access to all parts of the vast complex. And if the bombings had been unsuccessful, the Necrohol's persistent slide into the swampy marsh left much of the palace inaccessible. This did not bode so well for Ashe's planned assassination squad. Lathan Ariz would know all possible routes of escape, and Ashe only had hers and Lord Erran's memories to help their navigation.
"Why do they not patrol outside the palace?" Fran wondered aloud, her keen eyes sharply scanning the grounds around the Verdpale as the Strahl completed another pass over the ruins.
"That's easy," Vaan replied confidently. "They know Ashe and Larsa are going to keep bombing them. Why hang around outside?"
The Viera wrinkled her nose. "I am not so sure that is the whole story," she remarked softly, and Balthier considered her ideas. As they continued their flight, the sky pirate noticed that there were no fallen Baknamy scattered around the ruins. He remembered the piles and piles of abandoned corpses in the sandsea. Surely they would have left the dead from the bombings outside as well? Unless…
"They're underground."
"What?" Vaan asked in surprise.
Balthier shook his head in disgust. Why hadn't he thought of it before? "It doesn't matter how much Ashe or Larsa bomb the Necrohol. You know how the palace is sinking. They've probably set themselves up rather nicely in the submerged chambers of the Necrohol. Probably tunnels all over the Deadlands now…they've had nearly three years to build. It's why none of the other patrols ever saw anyone above ground."
Fran nodded in agreement. "And when they leave the Deadlands, they use their invisibility magicks to enter places like Giza undetected. That's why Ariz chose the Baknamy…"
He remembered the way he was knocked to the ground weeks ago in Rabanastre, as if an invisible force had run past him. It was a Baknamy, and they were on their way to Giza. How many more were wandering Ivalice? How many could be in Rabanastre undetected?
"I think we have found out all we need to here," he announced loudly, trying to shake off the feeling that something was very wrong. Fran gave him a quizzical stare, and he looked away from her. The sky pirate piloted the Strahl back south, disengaging her cloak as soon as the mist-laden Deadlands were at their backs.
-----------------
The Queen's mind was anywhere but where it was supposed to be. It was almost time to break for the day, and she found her eyes drifting to the windows in hopes of catching a glimpse of the Strahl on its way back from Nabradia. And she was itching to get out of the palace grounds. One of the merchant stands in the Muthru Bazaar was celebrating its fiftieth year in the marketplace, and the Queen would be attending a ceremony at dusk to congratulate the owner.
The owner was the grandfather of one of Penelo's friends, and the younger girl had volunteered to be the "Royal Liaison" between the bazaar and the palace. With the recent tragedies, Penelo had asked Ashe to promote the ceremony and give the people something to celebrate. In exchange, the palace stores would receive some of the stand's best spices, and the Queen was eager to try them at her next meal.
But with the way her ministers droned on that afternoon, she wondered if she would even get a chance to eat that evening. They had reached the final item on the agenda nearly an hour ago, and several of the older men were bickering back and forth about some trivial matter. It was enough to make her long for more of an iron fist, but the council spoke for her people, and she would not silence them unless she really had to. She wondered how her father dealt with this incessant prattle day in and day out for so many years.
She supposed that she had let herself get a bit too distracted by her other musings when she suddenly realized that several pairs of expectant eyes were gazing in her direction. "I apologize. I think of my friends' safety in Nabudis." There were sympathetic smiles at her pathetic excuse, but one of the older men who sat around the council table used the distraction to steal the floor for himself.
"And we all pray for their safe return, Majesty. They aid Dalmasca with their swift reconnaissance in that fiendish land. But might I also beg your Majesty's forgiveness in asking, but have you thought on the council's request from yesterday's session?" the man asked, and Ashe had to bite her tongue at the man's outlandish and roundabout manner of speaking.
She knew she would not be able to get through the day without it. "You speak of my need for a husband, do you not, Minister Kessler?" The man nodded humbly, and she sat up straighter in her chair. If she was a man, would they press her like this every day? They stared at her expectantly, as they had each day for the past week. She had remained silent on the subject each time it was brought up, but on this occasion it was going to be different. She had far more important issues to worry about, and her ministers needed to reassess their priorities.
She gripped the ends of the chair's arms and looked at her ministers sternly. She would be no complacent maid. "Who would you have me wed, my lords?" At her question, the men were taken aback. She had simply dismissed them before, but now she was challenging them in return. None of them spoke, so she continued. "What of Lord Larsa? That would be most rewarding! A child groom." There was some hushed whispering at her attitude, and she stood to tower over them as they sat.
"How about a Rozarrian?" she inquired furiously. "Shall I go to bed with their new royal family since the last one would have had me murdered?" If only Balthier could see her now. He would enjoy this all too much.
Tylo cleared his throat. "Your Majesty is being unfair…we merely wish for what is in the best interests of Dalmasca."
She turned to her most trusted minister with a deathly glare. "You may as well suggest the King of the Malboros before I'll agree to any arrangement."
Minister Kessler made eye contact with Tylo then, and she knew that the council was about to reveal their trump card. The one point she could not contest with any success. Kessler looked at her solemnly, seeming to ignore the rather unfriendly manner with which she was conducting herself.
"What of Lord Erran? He remains the sole survivor of House Nabradia. It would not require a political alliance with Rozarria or Archadia." They had her. The murmured voices of her ministers increased in volume, a positively bubbly sound. They sounded like a group of chattering birds rather than old men.
They looked to her again, and the only arguments she could offer were useless. She had Balthier, and Erran had Rosa. These reasons were not good enough in their eyes when a political match could be made. She closed her eyes and gripped the table in front of her. "You are all dismissed for today." The men grumbled in irritation and rose from their seats noisily. She opened her eyes and met those of her highest minister. "Tylo, a word?"
He nodded and waited for the others to leave the chamber. "Your Majesty," he mumbled with a bow to her.
She sighed and bade him to sit. "I will decide if and when I will marry, Tylo."
Echarna frowned and shook his head. "With all due respect, Highness, your duty to Dalmasca is to produce an heir from a legitimate union."
The sincerity in his words prevented her from lashing out like she had in front of the others. He genuinely wished the best for Dalmasca. "And I promise that I will fulfill that duty. But not now. I am still young, Tylo. With the current crisis, I hardly think now is the time to plan a wedding."
The sincerity faded suddenly from the old man's features, and his eyes were calculating and shrewd. "Majesty, we seek not only Dalmasca's best interests, but the best interests of your royal reputation. Do you not hear the rumors? Does nothing reach your ears? It is no secret that you and that pirate…that you engage in…"
The old man's voice trailed off in embarrassment, and she felt her fists clench and unclench at his slight against Balthier. Her fury increased, thinking again that were she a man, this issue would make no difference. "Say it. Say what you are thinking."
Tylo seemed ashamed, and he had never ever voiced these thoughts aloud. As often as he had grumbled in the presence of the sky pirate, he had never given his official opinion to her. "Your Majesty," he muttered quietly, looking down to the marbled floor.
She knelt beside him and demanded he meet her gaze. "If it's such common knowledge, then you won't mind telling me what I engage in."
He arched an eyebrow at her. "You grow more and more like your father with each passing day, my lady."
"Do not dodge me."
"Your Highness is unwed. It is irresponsible to carry on this sinful affair. You must consider Dalmasca's future," he argued insistently, his fingers tapping the arms of his seat.
She stood again, raising herself to her full height. "My relationship with Balthier is not affecting my ability to rule."
The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. "No. No, it is not."
She grasped his hand and looked to him earnestly. "Then let me do my duty and rid Dalmasca of this heinous threat. This is first and foremost. I must protect my country. Spending valuable hours arguing over who I consort with in my free time is immaterial."
He shook his head sadly. "It is the opinion of the council that you do more, Majesty. Your duty as a wife and mother remains equally, if not more essential. Your life, and Dalmasca's future, is in peril every day you go without an heir."
Ashe released him and slapped a fist on the table in disgust. "What of my father?" she spat furiously, the memories all too vivid. "Nearly a battalion of children, and I am the only one left alive to carry on his legacy. Speak not to me of heirs!"
She wanted to continue, but a deafening explosion rocked her ears then. The chandeliers shook overhead, the walls of the palace rumbling with the sound. Ashe felt frozen in place, her argument with her minister already forgotten in the shock of the moment. The sound continued to ring in her ears as she snapped out of the surprise. Tylo rose to his feet as quickly as he could, and she hurried over to the windows.
"Has the palace been attacked?" she cried in shock, attempting to survey the palace grounds from her vantage point.
"Impossible, it sounded like it was a ways off," he replied quickly.
Several guards hurried in to check on her, and she thanked them. "We are fine. What is going on?"
One of the guards shook his head. "It sounds like it came from the western end of the city."
Realization dawned on her immediately, and she felt the same agony in the pit of her stomach that she had felt when she had seen the plume of smoke rising from Giza. "The bazaar…" She needed to see it. She raced from the room to find a window with a view to the southwest, Tylo and the guards shouting after her to wait. But she could not wait.
She hurried down the hall, her shoes making a terrible clattering noise against the polished tile and probably leaving several scuff marks along the length of the passageway. The Queen reached the large window at the end of the hall and nearly pressed herself against the glass. The Bahamut leered down at the city, and she turned her eyes away from the wreckage to see a black cloud of smoke rising from the area of the Muthru Bazaar.
Ariz must have known that she was to attend the ceremony in the bazaar and had she not been delayed with Tylo, she would have been there by now. How many people had gathered for the ceremony? She sank down with her back to the glass as she realized just who was gathered along with the rest.
Penelo.