章 15: Heroes And Demons
Despite seeming unconcious to Reina, Marco was awake and aware for every second of his humiliating landing. He felt the moment the leaf's flight ended and gravity took over, he felt the painful jab of each branch on the way down, and he could barely breathe thanks to the way he hit the ground. So he could be excused if he didn't answer right away when Reina checked to see if he was still alive.
When the soldiers marched over, torches in hand, to find the duo on the dark forest road, Marco was still trying to catch his breath. But he heard every word of Reina's exchange with them.
"Listen well, soldiers of Gramt," Reina said in a tone that completely ignored her lack of control over the situation. "I need you to escort my associate and I to the Irelian border outpost. It shouldn't be too far from here. Naturally, you will be rewarded for your assistance."
Marco heard a slow chuckle in response. Then, a low, curt voice responded. "Princess of Irelia, you know the history of this forest, yes?"
"I do," she replied warily.
"Tell me."
There was a slight pause. Obviously the man didn't know Reina was more used to giving orders than taking them.
"Excuse me! I–"
"Tell me!" the man barked. Clearly he was some sort of commander, also used to giving orders.
"W–well…" Reina began, losing any hint of her confident tone. As she gave her explanation, Marco slowly rolled over so that he could see. "The Gramt Empire used to extend far east of this forest. It's called the Gramt Forest to this day because your people were the ones to name it. Of course, when the Empire went to war with the Kingdom of Irelios–"
"Your kingdom," the commander interrupted.
"My kingdom," said Reina. "Your people attacked my kingdom constantly, until we were forced to respond with our full might. After a long series of battles that resulted in a stalemate, the Irelian king of the time sent Heroes into the fight. The Gramt Empire has no Heroes, so you were handily defeated and pushed back. Eventually, a peace treaty was signed, and both parties agreed to split this forest in half, making it the new border between the two nations."
As she finished, Marco was starting to feel more aware. In the torchlight, he could see about ten men in two rows of five, but it was hard to tell how accurate that estimate was. What he could see clearly was the leader of the group, the commander that Reina had been speaking to. He was pale but had a large build, with a long dark mustache that came down into braids. The Gramtese were known for their ridiculous facial hair. Even so, he did give off an intimidating air as he stood poised across from Reina as if he might pounce on her at any time.
"That peace treaty, by the way, is still in effect," Reina added.
"So it is," the commander replied. "And yet, your people hate my people."
"We do not."
"Hm. Well, my people hate your people," the commander said matter-of-factly.
"That's unfortunate," she replied slowly. "You should know, however, that I bear no grudge towards the Gramtese for what happened years ago."
"Years ago? Your king, your ancestor, stole our land. But it happened years ago, so it doesn't matter, eh?" said the commander mockingly.
"I apologize if you dislike the decisions of my ancestors," Reina said more forcefully. "But, I must remind you, my father is the current king. There will be consequences if you try to harm me."
"So you go from peace treaty to threats? How quickly you show your true self."
"You're giving me no choice!"
"Irelians, all the same," the commander shook his head. "You invade our land, threaten us, and then shift the blame. Shameless. Take her away."
Marco watched as the soldiers came forward. He mustered what little strength he could to try and get up.
"I'm a princess! Taking me anywhere but my home will start a war!" said Reina.
"No," replied the commander coldly. "You trespassed into our land. You made war. But if our Emperor doesn't want war, we'll sell you into slavery. Either way, you get what you deserve."
Two of the soldiers moved to grab Reina. Before they could, she kicked one in the stomach. Then she swiftly moved behind the other one and kicked the back of his knee. When he stumbled, she gave another kick to take him down.
"You have no right," she said fiercely.
"I have every right!" The soldier bellowed. His angry voice rang throughout the quiet of the forest. "You Irelians think you can just take whatever you want! You have your gold that buys your soldiers, and you use these soldiers to take and take and take. And when we push back, you send your Heroes to slaughter us. Such a stupid name. They're not Heroes to us. They are demons. Tell me, if your people do not hate my people, why do you sicc your demons on us?"
"You started every war!" Reina replied.
"You took our land! Is that justice? Is that the work of Heroes? You there, boy."
Marco was on his knees up when the soldier called out to him. He turned slowly to face the angry man.
"Is this what your Heroes do? Trespass? Murder?"
When Reina rushed to help Marco to his feet, he could hear the shuffling of several men. He eyed the soldiers to see them advancing slowly, hands on their swords.
As his mind raced, he looked the commander in the eyes. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes were filled with a wild rage, like an animal in the throes of bloodlust.
Marco found that this didn't surprise him. Despite never meeting a person from Gramt, most Irelians had strong opinions about them. Marco's father had told him all about how the desert rats were violent, crude, and stupid. Like animals.
Marco knew better than most that one shouldn't judge another person on hearsay, so he always debated with his father. And his father would always tell him "you're too young to understand."
As he stared at the raving lunatic of a Gramtese soldier, something within him snapped. Maybe it was the stress of the day's events finally getting to him. Maybe it was the fact that he probably broken a rib. Or maybe he really did inherit his father's prejudice. Whatever drove him, it made him grab Reina's knife from his belt and point it at the commander.
Immediately, the squad of soldiers in the shadows drew their swords and came forward.
"Yes."
Everyone looked at each other, trying to understand Marco's response.
"Yes?" the commander replied.
"You heard me," Marco growled. "Heroes do whatever we want. We even kill if we feel like it. If you want proof then come over here desert rat."
The soldier looked shocked. "Desert rat? You–"
"I just climbed the Elder Tree and fought an Elder Hawk and now I want to go home. I'll do it by walking over your corpses if I have to."
The commander was given pause by an equal mixture of rage and bewilderment. The situation was obvious. He had ten men with swords drawn, and this "Hero" was clearly injured with nothing but a knife and a girl to protect. The boy was dead.
The commander was about to order his men to end Marco when one of the soldiers said "Sir…"
He turned his attention to the soldier, who was one of the torch-bearers. With his light, he revealed something on the ground.
It was a giant leaf! The kind that only grew on the Elder Tree. It also had ropes on it, meaning it didn't just fall. It was brought there by…
Impossible!
The man looked at Marco more closely. His eyes were wild like an animal's. His father used to say that the Irelians were like wild dogs, always hungry and ready to fight. Marco certainly looked the part in that moment.
Suddenly, Reina stepped forward. The soldiers brandished their swords, but didn't stop her from untying a rope that held something on her back. She held it up for the Gramt soldiers to see.
It was the Gramtese Dragon head!
With that reveal, the commander literally gasped.
Did the Irelians send a princess to hunt a Gramtese Dragon?
Entire groups of soldiers just like his own were often dispatched to deal with Gramtese Dragon nests. It took careful planning to fight the beasts due to their camouflage abilities. But this duo killed one all on their own.
Not just that, they had apparently climbed the Elder Tree and survived.
Whatever these people were, Heroes or demons, they were far beyond his squad's ability to fight.
"We leave," he said to his men.
Half of the soldiers immediately sheathed their swords, the other half looked at their commander with puzzled expressions.
"Now!"
With that, the soldiers fell back into formation and turned around. The commander gave Marco and Reina one last wary, hateful look before giving the order to march.
When they were a safe distance away, Reina let out a long sigh.
"Well done, Marco! You were surprisingly fierce."
Marco turned to face her.
Then he fell to his knees, hunched over, and vomited.
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