Deserter

TWENTY-THREE

{More of Virgil being Intense.

Chapter Triggers: lots of weapons (crossbow and crossbow bolts, knives, swords, blades in general), intimidation tactics, aggressive reactions, panicked thoughts, threats, character death, surprise attack. Those are all I can think of/figure out from reading through the chapter, I apologize if I missed any and feel free to inform me.}

Virgil stared down the men in silence, his fingertips twitching over the fletchings on his crossbow bolts. For a long time he said nothing.

Roman's mind was running wild with every bad scenario that could happen. He had handpicked almost all of the men standing in front of them, and the ones he hadn't trained himself had been assessed when he took the position. If one of these soldiers was exposed as a spy, a traitor in their midst, he feared he would never trust his own judgement again.

Even worse, what if the king no longer trusted him? Roman had been so lucky to secure a career in the castle, he was fairly sure he had no life left for him outside of Castle Plaule.

His increasingly panicked train of thought was suddenly interrupted, startling him.

"Rleshesi risehe hzi!" Virgil barked, his voice ringing stridently in the otherwise silent courtyard.

Roman flinched instinctively, grabbing for his sword. He recognized the sharp command as a training command and stopped himself from fully drawing his weapon.

The men standing in formation all dropped into identical ready stances, drawing their weapons. Virgil eyed them again, slowly selecting a crossbow bolt and rolling it between his fingertips.

"Helh risehe." The men moved back into their original at attention stances and Virgil tapped the bolt on the fingertips of his other hand. "E thirteen, F twelve, H fifteen. Step forward."

Roman felt his gut twist. The numbering system the men had learned to make it more efficient when trying to focus on one person had been one of his ideas when he first took the position as King Thomas's head of defense, so it would not have been something Virgil knew from his childhood.

Which meant that Deceit's men knew that system. He wondered for a painful moment if he had revealed it unknowingly, then the logic that Virgil could have easily found it out as Anxiety (or any other spies the Tricksters had sent over the few years) overtook him and he calmed down a bit.

Not much though, the three men who stepped forward were all fairly new and had certainly been picked during Roman's time.

The three of them looked terrified as they lined up in front of the prince, and rightfully so. Virgil was a striking and daunting figure, dressed in all black and with several visible weapons strapped to his body.

"Names." Virgil snapped, flipping the crossbow bolt over in his fingers and pointing it at the first of the three. "We'll start with you."

"G-Gallien of Jehanel, my lord." The boy nodded quickly. Roman had to admire how well he was dealing with the situation, even though they were all in incredible danger and he was sure they knew it.

Virgil grunted, taking a step forward. Gallien flinched, making the prince smirk.

"You."

The second man actually yelped aloud as the crossbow bolt in Virgil's hand was suddenly aiming at his face. 

"Bartram of Loyset, sir."

Virgil arched an eyebrow. "Sir?"

"M-My lord, I apologize!"

He narrowed his eyes at Bartram. Roman glanced at his other men and subtly made an 'at ease' motion with his hand. They quietly shifted, but didn't seem to relax at all.

"And you." Virgil turned to the last man of the group. "Name."

He received a wavery mumble in response.

"I asked you a question. Speak up!" Virgil barked, getting in the man's face. His posture and voice were so familiar, and Roman again had a momentary flashback to his own days as a soldier, before he rose in ranks. 

The soldier flinched away and screwed his eyes shut. Virgil growled and Roman decided to intervene.

"His name is Dorrian. He comes from Speira, I cannot remember what town."

There was a flash of movement and Roman leapt forward instinctively, not knowing what happened but recognizing the glint of a blade.

Virgil snapped one of his shoulders back, twisting his torso so that the knife Dorrian had drawn skimmed past his stomach. He slammed his fist down on the man's elbow, still gripping the crossbow bolt and using it as a close quarters weapon.

Dorrian screamed and Virgil twisted back, slamming the heel of his palm into the other's chin and knocking him backwards.

Roman pulled up short as the soldier dropped to the ground. The whole exchange had taken but a moment, both men moving with an extremely impressive amount of efficiency.

As Dorrian slowly pushed himself up from his back to lean on his elbows, dazed, Virgil removed his crossbow from where it was strapped on his back. He selected another bolt without looking and planted one boot in the middle of the offending man's chest, pinning him to the ground again.

"We taught you to be more clever than that."

Dorrian's face cleared a little and he sneered. "Don't lecture me on my job, traitor."

Virgil put pressure on his chest, eyes narrowed. "Name."

"Dorrian."

"What is your name?!" The prince roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls around them.

"He'll slay you where you stand, Anxiety. He knows. He knows what you've done, what you're doing, and he will kill you-"

The sound of the crossbow string hitting the limbs echoed too.

Virgil stepped away from the body, his hand dropping to his quiver again. "You two, search his quarters." He ordered the other two men, standing there in shock. "You're looking for a hollow wooden rod and a bottle of dark liquid. Take them to Sir Logan and tell him to keep them until I find him."

The two men blinked, not moving, and Virgil whirled. "Go! Before I do the same to you!"

Gallien bolted and Bartram took off after him.

Roman abruptly dismissed his men as Virgil stalked towards the castle. He raced to catch up.

"What is wrong with you?" He demanded angrily, grabbing the prince's arm. "He could have been our informant!"

"Men that work for Deceit do not give up secrets." Virgil said flatly, pulling his arm away. "Don't touch me."

"You don't outrank me anymore." Roman shot back, grabbing him again. "Logan found the paperwork you left, denouncing your status as prince."

"Don't touch me!" Virgil whipped around, slapping his arm away sharply and snatching for his knife.

Roman held it up, raising his eyebrows. Virgil snarled and grabbed it from him. 

"Anything he could have told you, I can provide. We put together a set of statements to use if we were captured, and they are all trained to only use those statements."

"You can't train a man to resist torture." Roman said, a bit darkly.

The look Virgil gave him said that he was very, very wrong.

{The language being spoken is Eutali, and while it will come up once or twice more it is not specifically explained. Eutali is the native language of Eaden, and while it is not spoken much in the country, the castle uses it for training and battle orders. A few coastal towns still speak it on the regular, but most have changed over to the common tongue of the land}