6.7 Tobina

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Frontenac's eyes were wide with terror as she jerked her head back. "Pincered from behind us."
"Halt! And reform, into a square." Tobina shouted out her orders. "A square?" Frontenac replied.
"And make haste!" She ignored the question. "A good solid Tainish square."
The combattants shuffled around and completed the maneuver in no time. Wynemere stood in the middle with Sophine, Tobina, Hettenhausen, Floren. Frontenac spoke again "What is the intention Capitaine?"
"We fight of course," Subterfuge returned and waved her sword around. "When the enemy disperses, we will continue towards the hostages." Something came flying, striking Tobina on her arm. "What is that? Vile-smelling! Savages! You savages!" It was a dead mouse. She turned fuschia with disgust. Before she had finished, they began being pelted with other items, food, muck, manure, stones, vermin, who knows what. The shields were raised to prevent the onslaught. Everything came at them along with screams of anger, hatred. Hettenhausen shouted to the Capitaine, moving close to her ear so as to be heard over the din: "We should probably begin our attack about now. Give the order."
"I will not!" Tobina replied, "and you will leave the ordering to me. I have my own orders. They must fire first."
"They have you fool!"
"Diplomacy!" Subterfuge screamed back, as a spludge of unknown liquid dripped through the gaps in the shields and onto her shoulder.
"This will be seen as weakness!"
"What they are doing now is not an attack, it's a joke. Sophine?"
"Here Capitaine." The young girl was huddled up to Wynemere, under Floren's shield.
"Tell them!"
"Tell them? What Capitaine?" Sophine tilted her head to the side.
"Anything! Just tell them to stop this nonsense."
"I'll try." Sophine picked her way to the front and squeezed through the shields, waving her arms. The assault slowed. She called out in Cassioni, but the storm of noise picked up again, followed by the resumption of launching of things. Floren pulled her back into the square.
"Well she's not helpful. Frontenac, tell the archer to send a few arrows out, over their heads. We do not want to show them we mean to hurt them." This time it was Floren spoke to Subterfuge: "the Cassioni will see that as bad aim, not good intentions, I advise against that." He said, looking bemused about this whole situation. "Do it, Frontenac." Four arrows were sent out and the shouting changed to jeering, mocking, laughing. Tobina looked around. Everyone was covered in sludge, some had small cuts from the stones that had been thrown, and probably a few lumps and bruises too. This whole thing was a joke. Hettenhausen continued with her string of advice to stop being so cowardly. "Diplomacy!" was all she would say in response. "Are there republic protectorate uniforms in the mob? Sophine? Brackenridge? Can you see any?" But Brackenridge was missing. Just Sophine answered.
"Yes Capitaine. There are," this made her decision easy. "The situation has changed. We will retaliate!"
"Too late," Hettenhausen said, "just look around. You're to surrender now," The mob had no filled the side alleys, even the buildings around them, their faces in the windows, no doubt full of rooms of things to throw down at them. "The Tainish do not surrender." Subterfuge our her sword in its sheath, and walked forward between the shield wall. The pelting of muck stopped again:
"Who is in charge here?" She screamed out. When nobody answered, she asked for Sophine. "Translate for me!"
"Who is in charge here?" She shouted again, and Sophine translated. A tall woman in a long cloak, sword drawn, stepped forward from the mob.
"You are the ship Capitaine?" She asked, in excellent Tainish.
"I am indeed, and under orders of Tainish ascendancy." The woman towered over Tobina, who puffed up her chest in response, scowling. "We are here to collect the hostages, and once we have done so, we will leave immediately. There is no reason for this."
The woman did not reply, but instead spoke loudly, firmly, to the crowd, in Cassioni. They listened to her and then burst out laughing. Even the woman cracked a small smile.
"Sophine, what did they say?"
"She translated what you just said."
"That's it?"
"Yes capitaine,"
"Ask her if she chooses peace or otherwise?" Sophine did as she was told and the exact same thing happened again. The woman addressed the crowd who burst out laughing.
"So what is it?" The Capitaine stomped her foot.
"I'm not sure,"
"We'll hurry up and ask her."
"You can't hurry Cassioni," Hettenhausen interjected.
"Well, tell her I'm busy, that I haven't got all day," this produced the biggest roar of laughter so far but it was followed by a brief back and forth between Sophine and the woman. Tobina wiped her face, and attempted to clean herself of the slime she was covered in. She could not bear the whole thing: this woman was no commander, for if she was it would be far more dignified an affair. This whole thing was a mess, a literal one. A dirty, stinking mess, thanks to Cassioni with no manners or decorum.
"This is nonsense, Sophine, you need to interpret, not just translate." Probably one of the most intelligent comment Subterfuge had ever made. "Please ask them to remove themselves and we will be out of their way in no time." Sophine looked at Hettenhausen. "Why she isn't even in a uniform! She's just a bandit rebel,"
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Hettenhausen said. "I did not and have not once asked for your input. If you please, Sophine-" she looked fearful, but did as instructed. The woman did not seem to repeat exactly what was said to her. Rather she paused, considered her course of action, and gave orders to her horde. A path in the middle began to form and Tobina preened, and redrew her sword, pointing it to the sky as if she had just won a battle. "I knew they have sense in them somewhere Hettenhausen, what did I tell you? Now let's get moving. Where in the world did Brackenridge end up? And that man with the accent? Let's hurry, I seem to have settled matters for now. Swords drawn, ready for attack.
"It's another trap Capitaine, and we are walking straight into it. Again," Hettenhausen said. "Are you sure about this?"
"Of course I'm sure, do you think I would order it if I wasn't sure? I know how to deal with these people, heathens though they maybe. Bushbridge, you play as we walk, if you please!" Bushbridge, one of the combattants, took out a small pan-pipe and played out an upbeat marching tune and they began to move through the small path that had been made for them.
Onwards they went, and Tobina, rather than be surprised at the lack of interference they faced, felt proud, as of she were well already in a victory parade. They continued the remainder of the way, through the market square, past entertainment street, to the gates of a hotel. "and here we are," she announced to Hettenhausen. "So what?" Came the huffy reply.
"What do you mean so what?"
Hettenhausen jerked her head backwards, "We remain entirely surrounded. Are you sure that they do not intend on making us part of the siege?"
"Of course not."
"Then what do you propose to do?"
"We just arrived, I haven't decided yet. Is there someone I can speak to? Sophine? Ask them to tell me who is inside. No, I mean demand it."
"Capitaine, you can just call out themselves, they can hear you."
"You expect me to shout at people I don't know that I can't see? I think not Sophine. You ask who is there."
Sophine called out in Cassioni.
"In Tainish Sophine, they are not Cassioni, these are Tainish captives."
"You did not specify Capitaine,"
"There's no pleasing this woman," Hettenhausen added.
"Again please Sophine."
"Greetings, Capitaine Tobina Subterfuge of the Tainish marine protectorate would like to speak with you. Please make yourself known."
"Thank the spirits," a voice reached back. "No spirits here!" Subterfuge yelled back. "Who are you, if you please?"
"My name is Bernebe Chastain, I am a Tainish historian, and have been confined to this property for too long, against my will. Are you here to remove us?"
"Who else is with you?"
"The Wheatstones, Murcian spiritualist family, Yarazhenya, the candle merchant, and Laure, her Cassioni assistant."
"How many?"
"Eight presently ma'am. We are missing two: Cerys Woodstock and Floren Cheshirering. Tainish and Witwatersrandish respectively."
"Cheshirering was with us until moments ago, the other I have not encountered. I was told there would be a Tainish linguist, is she also with you?" There was no immediate response.
"We gave reason to believe that she is gone, Capitaine,"
"Gone? Where to?" The Tainish were as frustrating to communicate with as the Cassioni.
Tobina Subterfuge began to tell them about their release, when she felt a gentle hand on her arm.
"Perhaps you should not speak out your plans in Tainish, in front of everybody," she said softly.
"And why not, may I ask?"
"Many of the town here speak Tainish, indeed there is a school of language run by a Tainish linguist. And even if they don't speak it, they are sure to understand a little,"
Tobina was growing angry, since a little girl had just thought of something she should have thought of herself. "I speak only Tainish. And it seems, so do they- you heard the speaker, Tainish and Murcians inside. All Tainish speaking."
"The candle merchant, Capitaine, she's half Petroviese."
"Well, that's no good, I don't speak any Petroviese, and I'd be quite surprised if any one here did too."
"Yes, Capitaine, but I do."
"Oh very well then, please inform them that two ships are sat at the river to take them away back to Loutouse. Make sure you are clear that we should aim to leave as quickly as possible. Before the Petroviese-"
Hettenhausen grabbed her on the shoulders. "May I remind you that that information is confidential?" Tobina did not mention that the Petroviese ships themselves were on their way up the Gloire. "Yes fine Hettenhausen, but please hold your tongue from now on."
"Anything else, Capitaine?"
"No that will be sufficient Sophine."
She duly translated.
"Hold on, I'll get Yarazhenya," was heard.

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