Some time earlier, Cleo was standing on top of the harbor’s tower and staring at the bay. The scoundrel had dived down there, leaving her alone to face trained killers. She was considering jumping after him to escape her current predicament, but her previous experience in these waters did not encourage her to do so. She glanced at the crossbow lying on the ground next to her and bit her lip. Her arms were incredibly tired now, and she had to use her whole weight on the crank to arm the string. She inserted a bolt and stepped shakily towards the crenelation. She could hear cheering between the hammer strikes, her fear growing each once. The Lady peeked over the stone, and searched for a target amidst the score of shields and armors she saw. A sudden move startled her, before she felt something fly by her ear, her own death missing her by mere inches.

She knelt back behind the parapet, and breathed heavily for a minute. She had to act, staying idle would only mean her death, so she steeled herself and stood back up. The young woman heaved the arbalest and took aim, before squeezing the trigger. She did not dare to look at the result and took cover right after, as a couple of arrows went over her head in answer to her own. God, this was an ordeal, she swallowed hard and set back to work with her lever. A few more exchanges of projectiles later, she heard a loud chorus of shouts, making a cold shiver run down her spine. She glanced carefully at the base of the building, only to find it void of soldiers. The small wall Ben had built had fallen, and soon the knights would reach her floor. She hurried to reload both crossbows, glancing at the harbor all the while, wondering if she would survive the fall.

A sharp banging noise startled her, and she turned to face the trapdoor, weapon at the ready. The fear was overwhelming now, she had only two bolts armed while there were at least a dozen men down there. She stepped back slowly towards the edge of the tower, she would rather take her chance diving than fighting them. She did not expect them to treat her kindly, they were probably furious about all the arrows and the burning oil.

“Hurry up lads, bring the ram!” She heard one of the attackers shout from under the panel, announcing the last moments of her stand.

A deafening noise came from beneath her feet, a chaos of wood cracking and breaking, screams and a loud crash. Cleo felt like the whole spire was shaken, and stepped on the crenelation, ready to jump. She stared at the dark waters below and hesitated, but then nothing happened. It seemed no one was trying to break up the wooden trap anymore. Only distant moans of pain disturbed the eerie silence. The Lady remembered Ben’s words and walked cautiously back towards the trapdoor. She gripped her crossbow with her right hand, and took off the iron bar blocking the panel with the left one. The young woman swallowed hard and lifted up the planks slowly, before gasping at the scene she discovered.

There was no other floor under the one she stood upon, she could see to the very bottom of the tower. Down there, lit by a few discarded torches, laid an impressive pile of broken beams and planks. Two whole floors had collapsed, she realized in shock, and the Templars were buried among the remains. Ben’s trap had worked, she concluded, that scoundrel could be reliable after all. She would gladly kiss him, where he here, for the relief she felt was immense. She collapsed on the floor, exhausted, and let herself rest from her ordeal. Surely she had done her part, the city’s defense was on other people’s hand now. Her gaze fell on the remaining oil-filled amphorae and she recalled the thief’s instructions.

****

Up above Gravelroy’s harbor, on its highest tower, Cleo was gazing at the bay. She was sitting on the rempart’s edge, watching the sun come up. The scene did not help her mood, she was feeling mortified. Throwing fire on her fellow countrymen had been hard on her, but not as much as listening to their screams as they had burned alive. It had proved completely different from the previous times, when the oil had only startled them, their armor and shields absorbing most of the heat. This time there had been wood to fuel the flames, and the result ghastly. She could still smell the stench of burnt bodies, she had not known it would be so foul, and prayed for the wind to make it go away.

It was all to defend the city from plunder, she tried to console herself. She hoped her allies had successfully defended the gates, or it would mean she had killed again, only this time for naught. She glanced at the rope ladder she had used to scale the spire. Ben’s plan might have worked, but it had cut off the main escape route. She was feeling too tired to consider the climb down, or to do anything really. A man’s voice shouting snapped her out of her thoughts, and she glanced at the stone pier below. Ben was walking there in his breeches and covered in blood, he was waving at her. She stared at the rope ladder for a while, gathering her strength for a new ordeal.

After a long and painful descent, she reached the base of the spire where the thief was awaiting her.

“What is the situation at the north gate?” She asked anxiously.

“We had trouble but we won.” He looked incredibly tired despite his smile, and his arms and torso showed fresh cuts and bruises. “Though that asshole of Chaffaud escaped.”

“Is the enemy going to storm the gates?”

“Dunno, but the whole mess made all kinds of noise. Word of the Emperor’s soldiers dead on the streets got to the lords, I heard. Them citywatch showed up right after the fight, acting like they won the day.” He spat.

“So we can expect help from the city council at last?” She asked, hopeful.

“Aye, Mae and Gilbet are taking care of things over there.”

Cleo let out a sigh of relief, it felt like a load of her shoulders, matters were now in more experienced hands. She sat down on the pier’s stones and relaxed, Ben soon imitated her. The two of them stayed silent for a while, resting from the previous night and staring blankly at the bay. Gloom fell once more on the Lady, for what she had done to the Templars.

“Ya don’t look much happy.” Ben said after a while, seeing the look on her face. “I mean we won right?”

“How many men did I…” She said, feeling awful.

“They’re soldiers, lass.” He shrugged. “At least they’re paid to die.” He added with a small grin, but it didn’t help. “I’m glad yer alive anyway.”

“Not thanks to you. You left me alone up there! Did you even consider the whole building could be burning from your mad plan?” She shot back angrily.

“Why woud it burn? It’s made of stone.” He frowned.

“The smoke could have reached the upper floor and… Never mind.” She sighed. “The building might still be standing, but how are we going to use it to defend the harbor now?”

“Well, they don’t know it’s empty inside so…”

“That might not stop them from considering an assault of the harbor.”

“Guess we’ll have to put some ladders in there. I hoped walling off the entrance woud be enough, if we had more men to defend it. I sawed the wooden beams jus’ in case, was better than giving the tower to them, right?”

The sounds of bells relenting through the city made the two stop their arguing. They looked at each other in fright, before glancing at the bay. The sight awaiting there made Cleo’s blood freeze in her veins, the Empire’s fleet had appeared at the horizon.

“God, how are we to face this?” The young woman whispered, between awe and dread.

“Reckon running away woud work.”

“I believe negotiating would be a better option. Luckily your exploits from last night gave us a better position.” Came a male voice behind them.

Cleo turned to face the speaker and gasped. The man with the brown coat, the one she had recalled from her wedding was walking towards her. He looked tired and wounded, and was accompanied by Lord Gilbet and the whore. A group of scary looking thugs followed behind, she noted anxiously.

“What’s he doin’ here?” Ben frowned.

“Calm down lad, he’s with us.” Mae spoke.

“How can you trust him, he’s connected to Chaffaud!” The Lady exclaimed, recovering from the shock.

“I must offer you my thanks for rescuing me from the councilman. It seems we had the same idea you and I, going there to decipher his message. Though I underestimated Chaffaud’s paranoia.” The man spoke.

Cleo still had doubts, and she glanced at Ben for support.

“Mae says he’s a’right, so it's good enough for me.” He shrugged.

“We don’t have a better option anyway.” The woman in question remarked.

“What do you propose we do to stop this then? Will the Empire even agree to a parlay?” Cleo asked, pointing at the incoming fleet.

“Well, their surprise attack has been repelled, and they can see the harbor is blocked.” He nodded approvingly. “Considering the resources at your disposal, I would say it is a miracle. You three never cease to amaze me really, you should consider working for my employer.” She could hear a smirk in his voice. “Now we will make a show of force, manning the defenses with as many people as we can muster. It doesn’t really matter if they are soldiers, as long as they look the part. Lastly, there is a way to ensure your brother will open negotiations.” The man stared at Cleo, and she froze in realization.

“You mean to use me as a hostage.” She said dryly. She glanced around her for an escape, but it was hopeless. There was only the empty tower behind her, leaving only the bay as an option. She was too exhausted for another desperate swim in Graverlroy’s waters.

“Now, I don’t like this.” Ben took a swift step in the coat’s direction, surprising everyone. He glared at the man threateningly, and the cutthroats behind put their hands on their weapons in response.

“Ben, it’s the only way.” Mae said, holding out her hand to appease him.

“Damn.” He grunted, but did not step back. “If she is going then I’m coming along.” He said firmly.

“I don’t think it would be such a good idea, you have a reputation of recklessness. As useful an individual you might be, in the right circumstances, your character is rather unsuited for peaceful talk. I would advise you to step back, or my associates will intervene.” He pointed at his henchmen, whose numbers made Cleo doubt the thief’s chances.

“Ya think they can before I gut ya? I ain’t so sure.” Ben growled, his hand on the handle of his sword. He made for an impressive sight, covered in blood and scars. His body was lean but you could see muscles show everywhere as he tensed.

The young woman felt her back thick with sweat, watching the confrontation. Brown coat as they called him, was looking coldly at the thief, while the cutthroats advanced cautiously toward the two.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Ben.” The whore protested. “It’s the only way to avoid the city burning. Why are you defending her anyway, the bitch betrayed you.”

“Aye she did, but she made up for it. See that tower?” He pointed a the spire behind “Them Empire bastards would be standing on top of it without her. Reckon’ she did her part.”

Cleo thought Ben was surely mistaken, his trap was the reason of the Templars’ defeat. She had not done much but reload crossbows or fire harmless shots, trembling with fear all the while. And she finished the job, setting the lot on fire and killing perhaps a dozen men. But the attack had failed at that point, had it not? She did not deem voicing the thought as an appropriate thing to do though. The man with chestnut hair signaled his troops to hold back, and sighed.

“Fine, I must admit she did unveil Chaffaud’s plot, and we don’t have the time for more squabble. But she will be coming to the negotiations. You can come as an escort, though bear in mind what will happen to your friend here, should you cause more trouble.” He finally said, pointing at the whore.

****

Cleo walked down a small creek together with Ben, following the brown coat on the sand with growing anxiety. She had dreamed of her reunion with Brother many times, but not once had she imagined to do so as a hostage. The bonds tying her hands and the cloth covering her mouth were upsetting her, but not so much as picturing her sibling’s reaction. Did he know the part she had played in the city’s defense? She tried to shake the worry away, she had survived much worse situations, breaking down now would be disgraceful. She brought her attention back to her surroundings.

Despite agreeing to a parlay, the Empire was landing forces a few miles away from the city gates, already working on setting up camp. Soldiers wearing the Holy white livery were landing on the beach from various small boats. They joined others in digging trenches and building tents. They appeared to be posturing for a siege, but perhaps it was only a threatening gesture before the negotiations. She noticed a small group of people advancing their way further down the sand, under a flag of truce. Once again conflicting emotions rose inside of her, she yearned to see her brother but feared the outcome of the confrontation. There was a terrible question in the back of her mind, a heavy and painful doubt. It had been there since her argument with Ben, and only the dreadful events of last night had managed to push it away.

In an attempt to avoid it, Cleo considered the hooded man walking a few paces ahead, wondering if he could hold his ground against the famed general. He must feel confident, for he had only brought Ben as an escort. Or was it his way of showing off, meeting an army with barely any guards? The thief was an eerie sight, still shirtless and wearing only leather breeches and a sword. His torso was covered with dried blood, but she could see an impressive array of lean muscles and wounds under it.

“What d’ya want to do? Go back home with yer brother?” He said, meeting her stare.

She wanted to answer him that as a hostage, she did not think she would have much say on the matter, but she couldn’t speak. Could she ever go back home, now that she had been branded an enemy of the church? But her sibling must still care for her, he had agreed to a talk upon learning of her captivity. Ben’s hand on her shoulder made her pause, and she realized both parties had stopped at a careful distance from one another.

The view of her brother standing in front of his men made her gasp. Jean-Christophe was still as tall and handsome as she remembered, though his eyes were a lot colder than before. He looked a lot older, perhaps the burdens of command, she assumed. He was staring at the Parkhat’s man intently, not sparing her a glance.

“Chaffaud, you can’t imagine how glad I am to see you at this meeting.” The hooded man said, ignoring the general. The lord was standing among white-clad knights behind Brother, looking angry and tired. “I must ask, what was it that made you turn against my employer?”

“How dare you ignore me, do not tell me you called for this parlay just to speak with the councilman?” Brother said, he sounded irritated.

“Please, as a leader yourself, you must understand. Knowing why one of your subordinates betrayed you is important, for future reference at least.” The brown coat said calmly, though Cleo was sure the insult was deliberate. “So what was it, some misplaced sense of nobility? Or was it the Parkhat letting you voice your disapproval freely getting to your head?” He continued, turning to Chaffaud.

“You imagined I would take orders from a gutter villain all my life?” The Lord said, his face twisted in disgust and hate.

“You really are a disappointment, all this plotting and scheming, only to trade a master for another? I would respect you more, had you tried to take the Parkhat’s place for yourself.” Cleo could swear she heard a sneer in the man’s voice, and Brother coughed impatiently. “Apologies, now let’s deal with our little problem, General.”

“You call the mightiest army the continent has ever seen a little problem?” Her sibling raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t be overly dramatic, soldier.” He spat the word.

“I did not come here to be insulted by a filthy criminal, this discussion is over.” Jean said, turning to his guards.

"What difference is there between a criminal organization and a government? At least criminals dont pretend to serve the people." The hood mused out loud, only managing to anger Brother further.

Cleo felt a pang of fear as the armed men grabbed the hilt of their swords, and Ben tensed at her side. As dangerous as he had proved the previous night, she did not think he stood a chance facing such odds. She swallowed a lump in her throat, did her sibling not care about her safety? She tried screaming but the sound was muffled by the cloth over her mouth.

“Do you want to go back to your Emperor and tell him you conquered a pile of rubble?” The Parkhat’s man voice rose, cold and firm. Brother held out his hand to steady his men and turned back to the speaker. “Because that’s what you’ll get if you don’t listen to me. The Parkhat will burn this city to the ground before he lets you rule it.”

“You would not dare.” Jean-Christophe said firmly.

“You underestimated him and paid dearly for it, a good number of your mighty Templars lie at the bottom of the bay as a result.” Cleo was amazed at the man’s audacity. He was blatantly taking credit for the success of others and taking the threat of thousands of soldiers as a mere inconvenience. ”Are you prepared to make the same mistake twice? You know the man’s reputation, do you really think that he’s bluffing? He is quite angry at your betrayal.”

“Betrayal? Strange word coming out of the mouth of a criminal.” Brother sneered.

“You thought you could bypass my employer and use Chaffaud? You overestimated his influence, do you really believe all the work in Polkiad was his doing? Preposterous. He wasn’t able to perform a simple task for you, be it opening the gates or retrieving your sister. The Parkhat only used him because he needed a noble figure as an intermediary with the Empire.” The man shook his head in disbelief. “Soldiers really don’t understand politics.”

Cleo realized she had been right, there had been a conspiracy to start a revolution in Polkiad, one the Empire had used to invade. She would never have suspected her brother to be a part of it though, it sounded far less honorable than her image of him did. And what price had the Parkhat asked for such deed, she wondered. She also understood why Chaffaud has been sending men in search for her, it had been to avoid her being held hostage against her sibling. Jean must still care about her after all, despite what Ben had said.

“You have broken contract with him and he has taken it personally.” The Parkhat’s voice drew her attention back to the exchange.

“A mere merchant making threats.” Brother said. His face looked impassible but the Lady knew him and he was worried, she realized.

“Soldiers play the game of war, eventually they lose and die. Whereas we traders are always there to sell them weapons.” Cleo was a bit surprised hearing those words, was the Parkhat really seeing himself as a tradesman rather than a criminal? The mention of the weapon trade was also worthy of note, it answered a lot of her previous questions. The underworld king had proved even more frightening than she had imagined. The man was pitting whole countries against each other, only to sell more swords.

“Soldiers can easily kill arrogant merchants.” Jean-Christophe pointed out threateningly.

“And a bear can easily crush a man, yet who rules the world?”

Cleo watched the clash of egos take place, wondering if attacking her brother’s was the right approach. He had never taken kindly to people bellittling his military career. Though he respected strength, be it martial or of character.

“You need the port and the city intact, that’s why you had to rely on surprise and schemes. You failed, and you might as well tell your men to stop pretending they are gearing up for a siege.” The young woman was in awe, the man was standing alone against a famous general and his army, and winning only with words. She wished she had his confidence. “Now, I’m willing to make everyone happy. You can put your insignificant little flag atop the Parkhat’s city. You can land your troops and use the port for your next military plays.”

“And what would your employer ask in return for such generosity?” Brother frowned, surprised by the offer.

“You will not interfere with the city’s rule, you can put an official at the council and give him all the titles you want, but it will only be for show. The Parkhat also wants a seat for one of his representatives at the Empire’s council.”

Every man present seemed taken aback with the request. Cleo was angry, handing over the city to the Holy Empire after everything she had done to protect it felt like losing. She tried moving but Ben’s grip on her arm was firm, and screaming over her gag proved useless. She turned to the thief, giving him a pleading stare.

“Sorry lass, but ‘tis the best way to avoid blood, I think.” He whispered to her, looking apologetic.

“The Emperor will never agree to that. A commoner at the high council? Preposterous.” Brother said, outraged.

“As a reward for offering you Polkiad on a platter, and then Gravelroy without bloodshed? I’m sure you can sell this to your master.” Cleo saw him shrug before he turned around and began walking away.

“What about my sister?” Her blood froze in her veins at the question, and her eyes met her brother’s for a moment.

“Since you have broken contract, I will keep her with me, as an incentive for you to keep your word.” The hood said and gestured at Ben to grab her and follow.

The Lady watched, helpless, as Ben dragged her away on the sand, her sibling and her hopes of freedom turning their backs on her and moving away. And the answer to that dreadful question with them: 'Did you play a part in my imprisonment Brother, or did you just stand aside and watch?'