A/N : In my headcanon, Basch knows who all the judges are. What with being military elite, he'd know the bad guys pretty well.

Eagle and Basilisk

"They're coming for you, captain."

Balthier's eyes were cool, hinted with the faintest trace of false amusement. Basch knew this expression did not bode well. He frowned in suspicion.

"They?"

"The Judges. Most of them, anyway."

Balthier leaned back in his chair, lit a cigarette.

"I don't understand …"

Balthier took a long drag and made a small noise of approval at the burning in his lungs.

"Vayne himself offered to clear me of all charges if I turned Her Royal Vengefulness, and yourself, over to be executed . . ."

He tilted his head and studied the cigarette a moment, watching it ash.

"You'll forgive me saying so, but she's better off dead at this point, wouldn't you agree? Orphaned, widowed, deposed, and still flailing like a rabbit in a trap, crying for vengeance… rather unbecoming of a lady, I'd warrant."

Basch waited for him to smile or quirk an eyebrow to indicate jest. He did not.

"Make certain that Ghis doesn't get to you first, or you'll have a problem locating your limbs in the hereafter. Bergan's a bit bloodthirsty, himself, though, and likes to have his way with bloodied, dying women. This in mind, you may want to offer yourself up for torture in the princess' stead. It's what you honorable sorts do, isn't it?"

He smiled, took another long pull off the cigarette, and blew a smoke-ring.

Basch went pale.

And then shouting drifted in from outside the inn. It was his own voice, muffled, accented.

"Secure the perimeter!"

Balthier raised his eyebrows, smiled lazily.

"Ah, Gabranth. Sweeter music I've never heard."

He tilted the chair back onto two legs and kicked his feet onto the table jauntily before taking another drag off the cigarette.

"Who knows? Perhaps he'll request that you die quickly. Fraternal mercy, something of the sort. Regardless, I thought you should be duly warned."

Basch drew his axe, took two long strides and swung, burying his axe in the traitorous brow. The cigarette fell to the floor, and the golden eyes stared, young and unseeing, tinted with laughter and fear both.

The captain forced back the urge to retch and wrenched his axe from its sticking-place.

For Landis… And for Ashe.

He turned and ran to the doorway – and his demise – screaming his final prayer.

Ahnas, O Great One, To Me.

* * *

Basch woke with a start, to darkness. He was drenched with sweat. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that the Viera was staring at him.

"I am glad to see that you are awake, Captain. You have been suffering a fever."

"Where…?"

"We yet make our way through Barheim. I smell the way out, but it is far."

Basch struggled to sit up.

"The others…"

He had to stop the pirate… Had to kill him. He couldn't quite remember why… but…

The Viera's nose twitched. She was looking at him strangely.

"Be still, Captain. you are unwell."

She opened her pack and drew out a packet of remedy, then poured the greenish-gold powder into an empty potion bottle, and added a little water from her canteen.

But, no… she was allied with him… and what if it was poison?

He shivered. He had to find Reks' brother and get them both out.

"Please, the others… where…"

She glanced sidelong at him for a moment.

"Balthier and the boy are down the passage about a half-kilometer. They seek the shortest route to the surface."

Basch felt something snap inside him at the sound of the pirate's name. Balthier. The Viera blinked at him; her crimson eyes were eerily neutral.

He cleared his throat, tried to make his tone conversational.

"Tell me… you have been close with this … Balthier… for a long time?"

"We have traveled together nigh on five years now."

Basch nodded slightly; he felt himself shaking. With fever or fear, he was uncertain.

"Forgive me for asking such a trivial question, but for my own peace, I must know."

The woman blinked patiently and waited.

"Does the man smoke?"

The slender nose twitched again; her face did not betray confusion or offense at such a strange personal question.

"He does not, and never has.… Drink this," she added, handing him the potion bottle.

Reluctantly, he obeyed.

"You are not wrong … But that is in the past, now."

"What?"

She blinked at him. "I did not speak."

Basch frowned at the floor. "Apologies."

The viera rose to her feet in one fluid motion, like a dancer.

"We go. Are you able to walk?"

He nodded, rose, and followed her down the passage toward the gate.