The Fey Conquest, # 3— "Horrible Crooks, Different in Looks..."

[Short stories. Images generated by hotpot.ai]

Nute and Jason were Swain's squires (and, though he didn't quite acknowledge it, a girl named Posy), being picked from a considerably extensive litter of Fey Folk, and were chosen for being simultaneously willing and able to serve as his squires. He had reserved paternal love for them, but found it difficult to embrace it, as he had seen so many of his friends die in the wars of Ivalice. They were especially helpful in finding where the espers dwelt in the surrounding area, which Swain and his followers hunted down over the course of several days.

He knew, intrinsically, which of the rune lords would most certainly betray him. One was Morris the Pig, which no one called him to his face. The Pig’s corpulence belied his effectiveness in battle, and he grabbed up magicite as greedily as he ate his food. Morris was known in their former battalion for his utter disregard for fellow soldiers when receiving meal portions, stealing and helping himself to more than his share on a regular basis. Those who opened their beaks to squawk were unceremoniously bullied by The Boar, which was the flipside of his nickname— those who hated him called him Pig, those who paid him respect called him Boar. His followers had a simple objective: Grab as much loot, cheddar, and magicite as you can.

Because The Pig simply pillaged where he could, he wasn’t especially able to acquire willing levies, but his greedy followers became rich in magicite, and curiously, the whole lot of them seemed relatively numb to pain, certainly in others. But because they had some kind of affinity for the pain of handling turning the magicite into runes, Morris and his men soon became bedecked in the magical markings. They were generally few in number, but terrible in battle, making a mess of the Northeast area, east still of Iceglass Fountain.

The other who was sure to betray him was Dunbar the Fletcher, who had an ongoing train of female captives. These were kept as lesser than concubines, and were unfortunately popular among the former battalion of Separatists. Dunbar actually succeeded in gathering levies, but did so by a series of threats and forms of coercion. He claimed he would pay his levies, but it could only be accomplished by pillage, and so in more than a few cases he paid his levies with the coin he had already seized from them.

Long term, Dunbar was the most dangerous. Short term, Morris was the greater threat.

The third one, Weez, would also betray him. He was called The Badger, who was terrible in battle, hot-tempered, and had already murdered three people in Ivalice, once nearly justified, twice not. Some fool thought to imitate Morris, taking things without apology, and fancied himself formidable in battle. Hungrier than usual, he attempted to filch some of Weez’s rations, thinking because of his short stature, he would be easy prey. Weez repaid this offense with a knife between the ribs, and proceeded to steal the fool’s boots and coin purse before he had finished dying. This was overlooked, because unlike the person he murdered, Weez was effective in battle.

That murder was the closest to being justified, the other two being slights by soldiers that Weez was unable to tolerate.

The remaining Separatists remained loyal to Swain, having beating hearts in their chests. “Keep your enemies closer” was a known adage in Ivalice, but Swain preferred to think like them rather than be in their actual proximity. Nute, his favorite understudy, led him to a place where a famous cartographer lived, as Swain was the only Rune Lord who had the presence of mind to consult a map. He paid him two silvers for three maps, then took three more in the name of taxation. However, Harvin, the Mapmaker, rarely was able to sell many maps, and still was able to make a yield, meager as it was.

“Let’s see,” said Swain, with his three young understudies (Nute, Jason Mure, and Posy) and the five companions who he trusted the most, “Weez, thank F@&king Zakarum, went this way,” and he pointed towards the Southwest, “God help those people. Anyways,” he continued, “We’re here. Pig went that way, so they’re over and done with. The Fletcher is actually right on our ass, over here. We need to find away to divide the land so I will be nowhere near him.”

“You’re scared of the Fletcher?” said young Jason Mure. “Theoretically, there’s only a few outcomes. In none of those outcomes do I share authority with Badger, Fletcher, and Pig.”

His companions assented.

“You’re the only one who we want to lead, rune lord,” said Numyst, one of the few clerics of their former company, “Zakarum is not with the others.” “Be that as it may,” said Swain, “Wherever those three go, the Fairy People are finished. But Dunbar is clearly biding his time. That’s what I’d do, if I were him.” “Astute observation,” said Krest, the company wizard. “What if he’s not?” said Nute. “Quiet,” rasped Swain, “we didn’t get this far by me not knowing who Fletcher is. Now—” he continued, eyeing the map, “The plan is a thrust towards Sovereign Valley. That will distance us from Dunbar. Meanwhile, we’re gonna need scouts to see where he goes.” “I’ll be a scout!” said Nute. “I don’t think so,” said Swain. His own fletcher, Garyf, now called Minus-One (he lost a finger years ago), said, “He’d make a useful scout. What’s more innocent than a Fey boy playing in the woods?” “If he gets caught, he’s toast. Fletcher may be smart, but he’s as mean as Morris.” “And Weez?” said Jason Mure. “No one’s meaner than Weez.”

Swain’s company departed the Mapmaker’s cottage, and determined to put as much distance between him and The Fletcher as possible. There were scant espers along the way, which they added to their trove, and as it happened, they were gaining small numbers of recruits for five of the following days. About twenty were those who were harried or oppressed by dark espers, which his company were happy to kill. Others were captives who received better treatment if they agreed to serve as conscripts. Three tried to run away once they gained freedom from bondage, and one of them was shot by an arrow in doing so. From the patch work of small communities as they made their way forward, they continued to gain other recruits, who had the option of joining or paying a stiff tax, or dying, the needy notwithstanding. Swain was able to pledge payment for his existing soldiers and recruits, as the toll he received from various villages would refill his coffers. There was no such practice among Morris, Weez, or Dunbar, and so Swain grew powerful in steady increments and with bearable cruelty, which was not the practice of his rivals. Moreover, word spread among the natives that Swain would protect his followers from the tyrants who plundered the other regions.

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