To Free My Commodore

a sea-chanty of Genso Suikoden IV

by Mithrigil Galtirglin

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The seas were calm, the war was won, the gravest dangers past,

But still the ship was silent as the ropes that wrapped its mast.

Nay, naught but creaks and shuffling had remained after the blast..

No man had seen the captain since the light had come and gone--

Those few that had been with him were not certain he'd lived on,

And every crewman's face was now with pyrrhic smiles drawn.

And so it passed, that in the night, between two watches' time,

A longboat from another ship near-drifted through the rime

And moored itself at port, where up the hull a figure climbed.

He slipped past sorrowed lookouts and tripped not one warning bell;

His stealth was near-undue, as if he knew the ship quite well,

And, cloaked by cloth and silence, started toward his target's cell.

He knew the paths the crewmen walked--he'd walked these halls before--

And knew what frightful powers slept behind each simple door.

He took care not to rouse those men, and glided down each floor.

The ship rocked, and he followed it, his boots masked by the creak

Of battle-scraped, despondent wood, the hallways tipped oblique;

It aided him, this vessel, in the way that all ships speak.

And so it passed, that through the night, the shadowed figure crept

Past stalls, past stores, past mirrors, as the tired soldiers slept,

And he, nearly gone unnoticed, came to where his charge was kept.

The brig was in the bowels of the ship, kept out of view--

A solitary prisoner remained, and cells were few--

And to this sleeping, black-clad man the silent figure drew.

The prisoner was grey but hale, unbroken in his pride.

His eyes were dark with honor, and devotion raked his hide.

He saw the cloaked man coming, and his tired eyes went wide.

Ten yards, ten feet, ten steps away, his rescuer came near,

But soon the prisoner's pale smile was overcast with fear--

With swords out of the shadows came the Lady's whisper, clear.

"Hold, there!" she hissed, and took the shadowed figure by surprise.

She flicked her blades up to his throat, ten seconds from his prize,

And with the point of one sword, pried his cloak back from his eyes.

Defiant, Helmut raised his hands, his cover gone to waste,

And looked sidelong at Kika, no expression on his face.

He stood now as the Captain he had been, before this place.

And Kika, twin swords leveled, lowered her voice even more.

Her tone was deep and deadly as the shadows on the floor.

"For what do you return?" she asked.

"To free my Commodore."

She looked into the traitor's eyes, her own face dark and sad,

And then she sheathed her swords and turned a blind eye to the lad.

No other question need be raised or explanation had.

And so it passed, that on that night, forgiveness would abound;

Come morning when the watch was changed, and duties passed around,

The prisoner and turncoat knight were nowhere to be found.