Subject: [FFML] [fanfic][YST/SM] Ronin Summer : Dark Crusade pt.9
From: Morgan Hudson
Date: 8/24/2000, 12:49 AM
To: ffml@fanfic.com
CC: dataraven_659@excite.com



Greetings, once again! 

Well, here I am. Thought you'd gotten rid of me, eh? ^_^

As always, I request any and all C&C you want to give. Especially on this
chapter. For everyone wondering, yes the action will start to pick up in
chapter 10. I'm afraid this is just more of that "plot" crap that I keep
sticking in-between my fight scenes. ^_^ 

Anyways, I reiterate (I love that word!) that I would love to hear from you.
My address is in the "Cc:" line of this message, and also repeated down in
the fic itself. Or, you can press the "Reply"... do I really have to do this
every time, or do you know the spiel by now? 

Oh! And of course my earlier story arcs are available in many, many places,
most notably my web page, at
http://dataraven_659.tripod.com/roninsummer.html
and at http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Underworld/4709/roninsummer1.html
Anybody wanting earlier parts of Dark Crusade will have to write me, or go
to Joy Lyn's webpage, which is quite awesome. That address is 
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Shores/5533/index.html
(she's got one that's easier to remember, but ironically that's the one I
forgot. :p)

And a bonus prize to anybody who catches the Bubblegum Crisis reference I
made in this chapter. It's pretty obscure. ^_^

Now, let me just send this fic, and I can get to finishing off those
pre-reads I still owe some people! 

Here we go! 





_______________________________________________________
Say Bye to Slow Internet!
http://www.home.com/xinbox/signup.html


-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --

OBLIGATORY LEGAL DISCLAIMER : Some of these guys aren't mine. The 
Sailor Senshi belong to DIC and Kodansha, while the Yoroiden are owned
by Sunrise and Graz Entertainment. Okay? So don't bother suing me. I'm 
a student. 

                   RONIN SUMMER VI : DARK CRUSADE
            
         A Sailor Moon / Yoroiden Samurai Troopers cross-over

             by Morgan Hudson (dataraven_659@excite.com)

Chapter Nine : Let Us Compare Mythologies
	
	Vyne idly paged through the book he held, perched on the edge 
of his bed. His room was surprisingly spartan, with little in it that 
was not of vital necessity to him. Aside from a small dresser with 
four drawers and a mirror, a large door that led into his closet, and 
his bed, there was nothing other than the bare stone walls and he 
himself. Vyne didn't believe in wasting things like space or time, 
like his brother Pedri so obviously did. 

	The young man snorted softly and grimaced. Even when he was 
only talking to himself, he couldn't avoid the subject of his brother. 
If there was one thing that he would never understand, it was how 
their Mother could have chosen that arrogant, anal retentive little 
snot to be their leader when such an obviously better choice had stood 
before her. Namely, Vyne himself. The man's huge wings trembled in 
irritation, a few ebony feathers drifting free and floating away on 
the gentle breeze that filled his quarters. With great effort, he tore 
his mind from the contemplation of life's great lack of fairness and 
refocused on his book. 

	Somebody knocked lightly on his door. Vyne sighed dejectedly 
and tucked the book under one arm, staring angrily in the door's 
general direction. It was Tuls, of course : even her knocks managed to 
be seductive, somehow. He had better see what she wanted, before she 
came in to get it. Getting trapped in that giant birdcage of hers and 
spending another decade begging for crackers was hardly on his list of 
things to do again. His taloned feet clicked softly on the marble 
floor as he crossed the room. He had a big room, and he was glad for 
it, especially the high ceilings. Vyne had always suffered from slight 
claustrophobia. Pausing with his hand on the door handle, he took a 
deep breath and held it. Thus prepared, he opened the door. 

	Tuls braced her hands on either side of the frame, leaning 
back and looking up at him through her long eyelashes. Her wild mane 
of long violet hair tumbled well past the small of her back, with a 
single forelock dangling fetchingly between her large golden eyes. 
Full, red lips were curved into a permanent smirk, and her features 
were almost deliberately delicate, with a heart-shaped face and a 
small pug nose. She was wearing pink, he noticed with a sense of 
relief, rose-coloured pants that were made of some gauzy type of cloth 
which left nothing at all to the imagination. If there had been any 
flaws on her body, Vyne would have been able to see them clearly, but 
his sister was blessed without the slightest scar, birthmark, or 
blemish. Her skin was the colour of fresh cream, and as the silver 
belt around her waist was the only thing holding her shirt closed, 
there was a lot of skin to see. The shirt was baggy, as were the 
pants, and made from the same see-through pink material. The way in 
which the thin material shifted and moved with every breath she took, 
it was almost more revealing than if she were merely naked. 

	"Hello, love," she said breathily, and her smile grew slightly.

	"Tuls," Vyne said coldly, and made sure to keep holding his 
breath. He wasn't going to risk falling for her pheromones : even if 
she wasn't currently interested in him, his sister had never been one 
to turn down an opportunity. "On the prowl again, I see. What do you 
want from me?" 

	"Well," Tuls drawled, leaning forward and letting her index 
finger trail down his bare chest, "I can think of all sorts of fun 
answers to THAT question, but right now I wonder if you've seen our 
dear, beloved sisters Erdge and Holts?" 

	"Nope," Vyne said flatly, folding his arms across his chest, 
"haven't seen either of them. Go away." His sister looked at him 
suspiciously, then tried to step around him and into his room. Arms 
still folded across his chest, Vyne kicked up one foot and easily 
caught her, straightening his leg and slamming her back against the 
stone wall on the other side of the corridor. His feathered ebony 
wings snapped out, blocking off the door. "Perhaps," he said, "you 
didn't hear me." His middle toe was curled inward, the knuckle 
pressing firmly against Tuls' chin as his talon rubbed against her 
sternum. His other two front toes were splayed, curved talons digging 
into the wall on either side of her head. The opposable toe on his 
heel slowly began to move upwards, delicately dragging the tip of its 
massive claw along the middle of his sister's body, a thin line of red 
marking its passing. "Leave me alone." 

	"Now, Brother Vyne," Tuls pouted, "is this any way to treat 
me? You know that Pedri said all of us siblings should love each 
other..."

	"He didn't mean it as literally as you do," Vyne snarled. 

	"I just thought that maybe we could both get a little more 
comfortable." Tuls smiled seductively. "After all," she said in a 
throaty voice, "it's so cold and drafty in this hallway. Aren't you 
even going to let me in to sit down for a while? I've been searching 
for so long, and I'm so very tired." Her smile became far more wicked, 
as Vyne's expression slowly became slightly dazed. His knee began to 
bend, and Tuls sagged forward against it, holding his outer toes like 
the handlebars of a bicycle. 

	Vyne suddenly shook his head and straightened his leg again, 
slamming Tuls back with such force that her head cracked against the 
hard stone wall. His delicate, bishounen features twisted with rage, 
and his emerald eyes were all but glowing. 

	"Hey," Tuls groaned, rubbing the back of her head and staring 
at the blood that coated her fingers, "if you wanted to get rough, 
baby, you should have arranged for a safety word!" She smiled, and 
ran her tongue over her lips as she licked her fingers clean. "Not 
that we need one," she added, "but it's nice to know what to ignore." 

	"For the last time," the winged man seethed, "I don't know 
where Erdge and Holts are. If I DID know where they were, I would lie 
to you. I despise you, Sister Tuls, in case you have forgotten!" 

	Tuls stared at Vyne for a moment, then nodded. "This is about 
that little thing I did a while back, isn't it? That was almost one  
thousand years ago, you adorable little feather duster! Can't you just 
let bygones be bygones?"

	"Bygones be-?" Vyne narrowed his flashing emerald eyes, 
fighting the urge to incinerate her on the spot. "You slept with my 
entire invading army the night before I attacked! They didn't even 
have the energy to lift their swords! I had to destroy the whole 
country by myself! I was nearly killed!" 

	"Well," Tuls said helpfully, "that's no reason not to go to 
bed with me NOW, is it?" 

	"My ENTIRE," Vyne hissed, "invading ARMY!" His sister shrugged 
and slowly began to lean forward again, pressing her body against the 
sole of his large foot and rubbing against it like a cat against the 
leg of its owner. Vyne steeled his nerves and did his best to ignore 
her. 

	Tuls continued to writhe beneath his foot for a few minutes, 
then sighed deeply and hung her head in dejection. "Wow," she said, 
"not even a twitch? You really have been practising that 'Soul of Ice' 
thing you were blathering on about a few centuries ago." The 
purple-haired temptress heaved a deep sigh that nearly caused her to 
fall out of her shirt. "Well, can't blame a girl for trying. I'm off 
to find a different game." With a fetching smile, Tuls removed the 
fishing net that hung from her silver belt and slung it over her 
shoulder. "Wish me luck!" A bawdy wink later, she was gone, melting 
from beneath his talons as if she had never been there. 

	Vyne growled and went back into his room. As the door closed 
behind him, he released a shaky breath and wiped the sweat from his 
brow. He had been so very close to giving in. Unfolding his arms, he 
opened his hands and stared at the bleeding marks he had dug into his 
palms with his fingernails. Fortunately, Sister Tuls hadn't noticed, 
or she might not have given up so easily. If she had been wearing 
blue, she might not have given up at all : she was as persistent as 
she was perverted, and she ALWAYS got what she wanted, eventually.

	But not this time. After his shaking had subsided, Vyne 
staggered back across the room and rapped on his closet door with his 
knuckles. "She's gone," he said, and the door slid open. A tall woman 
dressed from head to toe in form-fitting black leather stuck her 
masked head out and looked from side to side before emerging the rest 
of the way. Her long blonde braid swung down around her ankles, and 
was a bit frayed from the way she had been twisting it nervously in 
her hands. 

	"Thanks," Erdge said to her brother, and placed a hand on his 
bare shoulder. "Do you mind if we stay here until she calms down a 
little? We don't really want to risk going back to our rooms, because, 
well... that's one of the first places she'd check." 

	"No problem," Vyne said, flopping onto his bed and opening his 
book once more. "There's some food in the dresser, if you don't mind 
hard tack and beef jerky. Where's Holts, anyway?" 

	A light snore from the direction of his closet answered him 
before his sister could, and Vyne smiled. Only Holts would fall asleep 
while hiding in terror. Turning a page, he stared at The Art of War as 
if he hadn't read it six million times before. So, Pedri, he thought 
to himself, if you're so damn special, why wasn't it YOU who helped 
protect your sisters from that deviant? His lips twitched in a smile 
as he turned another few pages at random, watching Erdge from the 
corner of his eye. He'd have to make sure Erdge and Holts were asking 
themselves that same question, before they left his quarters. 

	He'd be Mother's Pride yet, and then she'd talk to HIM, 
instead of Pedri. Then HE'D be the special one, the one Mother loved. 
And what would Pedri be then, without his position to protect him? 
Well, Vyne thought, surely Brother Tytoung was getting hungry again. 
Pedri could be a peace offering to him. Pedri could be lunch. 

**********

	"Pedri," Nasuti tried to explain, "could be the single most 
dangerous creature any of you have ever faced." Pausing, she took a 
deep breath and looked around the clearing. "If," she added, "he's the 
same Pedri I came across in my research. He might not be." 

	"Right," Haruka Ten'ou replied sarcastically, running one hand 
through her short mop of blonde hair. "Because Pedri was SUCH a common 
name, especially in ancient Japan." 

	Sitting at the feet of her partner, Michiru Kaioh calmly ran 
a brush through her damp, sea-green hair and smiling over at the 
flustered young woman. "Don't worry, Nasuti," she said, "Haruka doesn't
mean anything by it. Just tell us what you know." 

	"Well," explained Nasuti, scratching her head, "it all depends 
on what this Pedri is like. Kayura, would you mind describing him to 
me?" 

	Seated on a nearby rock, the frail raven-haired empress 
shrugged as she pulled on Nasuti's white short-sleeved shirt. The young
woman had offered to let Kayura borrow a few clothes, and the empress 
had taken her up on the offer. "Pedri? Nothing special." Tugging on 
the dark, nearly black, denim jeans, Kayura fiddled with the belt for 
a moment or two and stared down in disgust as the pantlegs flopped 
several inches past her feet. "He was rather tall, slim, maybe a bit 
older-looking than me, but younger than Anubis or Rajura. Short, dark 
hair, and wearing some kind of dark toga with a weird gold clasp. He 
walked through the wall, told us he was going to end all life in the 
Dark Kingdom, then melted through the floor." 

	"Huh. Did he, by any chance, have a violin?" 

	Kayura blinked. "A what?" 

	Michiru smiled happily. "Pedri plays a violin?" 

	"No." Nasuti shook her head. "The violin was for his victims, 
according to the legend I remember. Pedri was l'esprit d'amour propre, 
or at least, the Pedri I read about was. Apparently, he was a very 
volatile creature too : il est tres mal. Even mentioning his name 
without proper reverence was supposed to earn his ire. He was supposed 
to be relentless in his goals, with one exception. Namely, the violin."

	"I'm still confused about the violin," Haruka admitted. "Does 
this Pedri guy play it, or give it to people, or what? And whatever 
happened to just giving flowers?" 

	"The legend has it that one of his six siblings -Holts, I 
believe her name was- once played Pedri a duet on two violins at once. 
The song entranced him, and he fell in love with it. Unfortunately, 
Holts had been making the song up as she went, and couldn't remember 
what she had played. So, Pedri was supposed to offer a violin to those 
who had angered him. If they could manage to reproduce the tune Holts 
had played, he would spare them and grant them any one thing it was 
within his power to give. If they didn't..." Nasuti looked embarassed. 
"Let's just say it wasn't very pleasant."

	Kayura bent over and began rolling up the cuffs of her borrowed
jeans, which were at least one size too large for her. "So," she said, 
"if this Pedri we're up against is the same as the Pedri you were 
reading about, then what is he? A youma? A demon?"

	"A god, actually, and not the kind of god that other gods 
invite to many family picnics." Nasuti pulled on her denim jacket and 
glanced over at the three women watching her intently. "Like I said, 
Pedri was l'esprit d'amour popre. That was how the scrolls usually 
referred to him, since even mention of his name was supposed to anger 
him. It's French for 'the spirit of ego'. He was called 'l'incarnation 
de fietre', too : the incarnation of pride. My theory at the time was 
that Pedri's ancient legends were what led to the current myths about 
Satan challenging people to a fiddle contest." 

	Haruka chuckled. "You mean it was PEDRI who went down to 
Georgia, looking for a soul to steal?" 

	"Possibly, although it was likely somewhere in Greece or Rome,
not America. The scroll I was reading was translated into French from 
Latin - they called Pedri the deus fastosus, the god of haughtiness- 
and it may have been based on an even earlier tale."

	"Oh." Kayura sat up and stared off into space for a few 
seconds. "So it's possible that Pedri is some kind of god? Or at least,
powerful enough that it made no difference to the people who knew 
about him?"

	"Well," Nasuti was quick to offer consolingly, "I doubt it 
really is the same Pedri. It's likely just someone using his name, 
or trying to convince people of his own divinity. Frankly, he could 
have picked a more stable god : according to the few legends I can 
recollect, Pedri was as tempermental as Thor with a toothache." 

	"Either way," Kayura responded, "I want you to try to recall 
as much as you can about the Pedri in your legends. Especially try to 
remember any weaknesses he or any of his siblings might have." 

	"Tea," Nasuti said instinctively, then blinked in confusion. 
"That is, I'm pretty sure one of them has a real soft spot for tea. 
Something about the sugar, or the caffeine - it does something strange
to them. But it wasn't Pedri, it was one of the other ones..." 

	"As for the rest of us," Kayura said, sweeping her arm in a 
gesture that encompassed Haruka, Michiru, and their teammate Setsuna 
Meioh, who was still relaxing in the hot spring, "we don't tell anybody
about this. I don't want our troops being disturbed by some vague 
rumours. Is that understood?" 

	"Right," the three Outer Senshi chorused, and Kayura nodded 
to herself. 

	"Then let's get back to camp, before Anubis starts to worry 
about me. The Storm Senshi probably have Naaza up a tree by now, too." 
Turning to where Sailor Pluto remained in the water, Kayura raised an 
eyebrow questioningly. "Aren't you coming, dear Setsuna?" 

	"That's all right," Setsuna replied, closing her eyes and 
sinking a little lower into the steaming water. "I'll be along soon 
enough, thank you very much." 

**********

	Pedri sat back in his throne and stared at the figure before 
him. Nearly eight feet tall, the giant creature was nearly all muscle, 
with a broad, barrel-like chest and a head that seemed attached 
directly to its shoulders. The head was rather interesting in shape :  
lacking ears, chin, or nose, it was little more than a thick skull 
with a broad snout and a mouth that stretched back nearly to its neck. 
Sharp, curved teeth could be seen peeking out behind the scaly lips, 
and a thick tongue rubbed along the edge of the jaws. Those jaws were 
large enough to engulf Pedri's entire torso in a single bite, he 
reflected, and noted the hungry gleam in his brother's beady eyes. 

	Tytoung sat forward slightly on his haunches, clawed hands 
resting on his knees as his wide tail swung back and forth in an 
attempt to keep him on balance. His entire body was covered in small, 
bead-like scales, black with a strangely beautiful coral pink pattern 
that shifted in the light. He looked most unpleased. 

	"What," he asked, in his usual dry hiss, "do you think I am?" 

	"A lizard," Pedri answered honestly. "A particularly large 
and venomous lizard, and one which has no place telling me how to run 
my people." 

	"You," Tytoung suggested, "are full of shit. That's what I 
think. I think that you're asking me to put my troops at risk fighting 
creatures that have already managed to shame half of our family, and 
that you thought I was too stupid to find out how dangerous they are. 
Well, let me tell you, Pedri : I'm not going out there. Count me out."

	"You're going," Pedri answered coldly, tightening the black 
leather gloves he wore. "Mother has asked that you go." 

	"Let Mother ask me in person," Tytoung said, pointing towards 
the large crystal tube in which a nude woman floated serenely. "If 
my presence is so important, why can't she ask for it WITHOUT your 
help, you little parrot?" 

	"You know as well as everybody else that Mother only speaks 
to her chosen one, Brother." Pedri paused and looked over at the tube, 
head cocked as if listening to something. Tytoung winced at the use of 
his full name. He hated his slurred nickname, but at least it wasn't 
said with that icy tone that Pedri reserved for speaking to him.

	The last time Tytoung had faced Pedri, the young man had used 
those same tones. "Tytolung," he had said, "Mother feels that your 
presence in the castle is disturbing to others. She thinks that perhaps
you would be more comfortable elsewhere." And Tytoung had gone, because
he HAD to obey Mother, even when she was saying she didn't want him 
anymore. 

	Well he'd be damned if he did it twice. If Mother wanted her 
scaly son to be sacrificed for some stupid crusade, or quest, or 
whatever the hell Pedri was calling it this century, she could damn 
well ask him with her own voice. 

	"Still," Pedri said, "he is most contrary. I feel that some 
form of punishment may be in order." He paused again, listening to 
something Tytoung couldn't hear. "A reward? I suppose that could be 
suitable, as well. Of course, Mother, I never meant to imply that any 
course of action could be as suitable as your own. I am eternally 
sorry." Turning back to Tytoung, Pedri sighed. "Mother," he said 
imperiously, "has informed me that should your behaviour be acceptable 
on this mission, She would be willing to accept you back into our 
home." 

	Tytoung twitched. Home? Out of the stinking, wet, grimy, cold 
tunnels and caverns where he had been forced to reside for... how long 
was it, two or three thousand years? He couldn't even remember. She 
would actually let him come into the light whenever he wanted? Was this
some kind of trick? 

	Of course it was. Pedri was baiting him. There was no way that 
he would let Tytoung within a hundred feet of him without Mother to 
protect him. No matter what was promised, it would almost definitely 
be taken back after the mission was over. Almost. He sighed. Damn it. 

	"I'll go," he groaned. "But if this turns sour, you had better 
start wondering which kind of wine you go best with." 

	Pedri smiled. "Red, of course. Now go and turn your teeth 
against the Masho and their allies. Prove that Mother was right to 
place her faith in you." 

**********

	Setsuna watched her friends go and leisurely swam out across 
the pool, currents streaming and rippling luxuriously over her bare 
skin as she glided through the steaming water. In the growing shadows 
of night, she almost felt as though she was floating through the silky 
blackness of space itself as she spread her arms apart and stared up 
at the stars. It was rare, she reflected, that she could have such 
times of peace. Everything in the universe seemed to require her 
personal permission to keep running at times, and she had to admit 
that she had needed a chance to relax. Although, she admitted with a 
hidden smile, her husband Shutendoji had all but spoiled her with his 
constant affection, the last time she had been to the Gates of Time, 
and with such a peaceful and wonderful hot spring to bathe in, she 
could soon find herself actually enjoying her life if she wasn't 
careful. Surely, that was against some kind of cosmic rule... 

	Kicking her legs into the air, Setsuna dove beneath the surface
of the water and sliced through the velvety black pool, her hands 
sifting through the soft, almost ash-like sand that coated the bottom 
of the hot spring. The heat was glorious so far down, palpable as it 
washed over her skin in waves. The green-haired Senshi stayed under 
as long as she could, until her lungs began to strain for air and 
forced her to kick off of the sandy floor and rocket back towards the 
surface. 

	She broke through the invisible barrier between dark water and 
dark air, the cold breeze biting at face and arms as she shook the 
excess liquid from her thick tail of forest green hair and rested her 
hands on the edge of the spring. 

	No. Not on the edge. On a pair of clawed, armoured feet. 

	A pair of clawed, PURPLE armoured feet. 

	"Hello," Rajura said pleasantly as he glared down at the nude 
woman, "I thought those others would NEVER give us a chance to be 
alone together." He extended a gauntleted hand, his expression 
inscrutable behind the steel grille that covered his nose and mouth as 
he offered her the fluffy pink bath towel Nasuti had so thoughtfully 
left behind. "It's time to get out, Setsuna dear. You're going to tell 
me a great many things that I want to know." 

	Setsuna pulled herself out of the pool, water pouring off of 
her body and forming a puddle around her feet as she accepted the towel
she had been offered and wrapped it around her body. "Where," she 
asked, in a resigned tone of voice, "are my clothes?" 

	"You can have them back," Rajura answered, "after you tell me 
what you meant back in our camp, when you kept talking about 1569. 
What in the world did you think you were talking about, and why on 
earth did you think I would know, or care?" 

	"I think," Setsuna said as she slowly turned, trying to keep 
her eyes on the armoured form circling her, "that in 1569, a passing 
troop of soldiers were sent to check a border fortress that hadn't 
been heard from in months. They found it burned and gutted, with every 
creature under its roof murdered. Even the crickets had been poisoned."

	"Now what," Rajura asked, "would that have to do with me?" 

	"Hanako." 

	Rajura's right eye twitched slightly. "I told you," he hissed, 
"I don't know anybody by that name." 

	"Oh? That's very strange." Setsuna lifted one eyebrow and 
smirked at Rajura. "You see, as far as I can tell, Hanako was a young 
girl who lived in a small town near Kanto at the time. Your hometown, 
actually." 

	"I left home at an exceptionally early age." 

	"I suppose I was mistaken, then. I assumed you must have known 
her : she would have been born to her parents only a few years after 
you were, and it was such a small town, and all." 

	"As I said," Rajura snarled, "I left home very young. I must 
not have met this person." 

	"Still," Setsuna countered, "it's odd. She was kidnapped by a 
general named Torio Tsugakuro. And one year later, ON THE EXACT DAY OF 
HER FIFTEENTH BIRTHDAY, Torio and every living thing in his fortress 
were brutally murdered." 

	Rajura smiled behind the steel grate of his mask and spread his
arms in a shrug. "Perhaps," he suggested, "it was a case of bad karma. 
That can come back to haunt people, you know."

	"Perhaps," Setsuna admitted, holding her towel slightly tighter
around her and extending one hand, "but a deal is a deal, and you only 
asked me what I thought. My clothes?" 

	Rajura reached behind him and produced a tightly rolled package
of blouse, skirt, jacket, underwear, and shoes. Looking at the dark, 
green-haired woman one more time, he held his arm out and dropped the 
entire package into the hot spring with a loud splash. "You should 
be careful," he hissed as he walked back towards the camp, "with your 
tongue, apprentice. I would hate for someone to find YOUR household 
in such a horrid condition." 

	"I'm not your apprentice, Rajura. Not for many years, now." 

	"A slip," Rajura said as he vanished into the underbrush, "of 
the tongue, I assure you. Good luck fishing for your clothing, dear. 
We're heading out in an hour." 

**********

	Care was of the utmost importance. One wrong step could lead to
disaster, and that was to be avoided at all costs. Mistakes were not 
to be tolerated. Tuls was on the prowl, and she could be anywhere. 

	Slowly, Erdge lowered herself to the floor and pressed against 
the wall. Sliding the small mirror she was carrying past the corner, 
she stared intently at the reflection. Good. The hallway was clear. 
Staying low to the ground, the blonde woman scurried around the 
curve and raced up the hallway as quietly as she could. Reaching the 
doorway she had been aiming for, she drew a handful of throwing knives 
and broke through the solid oak panel, knocking the door from its 
hinges and hurling her blades through the air as she tumbled across 
the floor. Stopping in a crouch, she scanned the area. No Tuls. So far,
so good. Next came the hard part. 

	Her tower was just across the courtyard, a gleaming pillar of 
silver with fine gold trim and delicate filligre all along its 
surface. Golden dragons and lions stood gaurd, encrusted with jewels 
and beautifully carved. All she had to do was get to her tower, and 
then she and all her treasures could be alone together... it had been 
nearly two days since she was there to care for her pretty little 
babies. In her mind, she could see all of the coins going uncounted, 
the rings and tiaras going unworn, the art going unappreciated... her 
stuff, going UNTOUCHED! It was criminal! 

	But the courtyard seemed so very big, and she had no way of 
knowing where Tuls was. Holts was still safe ; she was snoring away in 
Vyne's closet, and Vyne hated Tuls too much to betray one of his other 
sisters to her. Erdge, however, had accidently caught a glimpse of 
her treasure cache from Vyne's window, and immediately began to hear 
her precious things calling out to her. 

	Squeezing her eyes shut, Erdge lowered her head and rushed 
across the open area as fast as her legs could carry her. Subtelty be 
damned, she decided : I'm close enough! I can make it! The air burned 
in her lungs, and she was already sweating horribly -black leather not 
being the best suited attire for sprinting- but she could already see 
the huge platinum doors with their golden lock. Forcing herself to 
run even faster, her body seemed little more than a blur of motion as 
she darted to the doors and grabbed the lock. 

	"Eighty-five," she muttered, rubbing her fingrs together and 
glancing nervously over her shoulder as she worked the combination 
lock, "fifty-seven, eighty-six... come on! Open!" The lock popped, and 
the doors swung open with a loud hiss. Slipping through the crack as 
the door seperated, Erdge turned and began pushing them shut again, 
frantically tapping on the small box sitting next to the left door's 
hinge. "Ninety, fifty-eight, ninety!" The box beeped as it approved 
her code, and a thick steel bar slammed across the doors. 

	With a sigh of relief, Erdge sank down to the floor and felt 
her heart pounding in her chest. "I am staying here," she whispered, 
"until someone digs me out!" Shakily climbing back to her feet, she 
looked around the first room of her vault. Open chests spilling with 
coins and jewels, ivory statues with diamond necklaces hanging from 
arms and around necks, thick tapestries of rich silk piled haphazardly 
around the place... she really did need to clean eventually. Still, 
she thought happily, every pack rat knows its nest. And, although she 
would be sure to give every one of her babies the attention and love 
and polish they deserved, she had one particular precious that she 
needed to tend to right away. 

	Picking her way across the messy room, Erdge pushed her way 
towards one pile in particular. Rummaging through the towering mass 
of valubles, she picked up first one item, then another, examining 
each before tossing them over her shoulder. "Manuscript," she mumbled, 
"magic sword, emerald necklace, magic sword, scrolls, potions, magic 
sword, Merlin's hat, a magic AXE, well, there's a change... Let's see, 
here... where did I put that blasted thing?" Grabbing a simple wooden 
box, the blonde woman shook it vigorously. No clinking : that meant 
no coins. Hopefully, she undid the clasp and slowly creaked open the 
two panels that made the box top. Staring into the box, she smiled. 

	"There you are!" she cooed. "You had me worried. Let's unwrap 
you, and see how pretty you are." Reaching up, she undid the clasps 
and straps that concealed her greatest treasure, and pulled its 
protective cover away. 

	"Don't worry," she whispered to the contents of the box, "I'll 
always take good care of you. Pedri would break you, and Tuls would 
take you away from me, but I'm going to keep you safe, and happy. 
Nobody will ever know about you, except for me." Feeling suddenly 
paranoid, Erdge glanced over her shoulder and held the box a little 
tighter to herself. "You're mine," she whispered to it, "mine, mine, 
mine, and I don't have to share if I don't want to. Vyne says I should 
help him fight Pedri. He says we could actually kill him for good, if 
we all worked together. But Pedri is supposed to be Mother's chosen. 
What if killing him makes Mother mad? And what if we fail? Then PEDRI 
will be mad. I've never seen him mad before. He's bad enough when he's 
just upset. What should I do? Holts won't turn on him : she thinks 
he's great. Of course, she's never gotten hit with that whip, either." 

	The box didn't answer, but of course Erdge hadn't expected it 
to. She knew she was just talking to an inanimate object. Still, it 
helped her to sort her thoughts out. 

	"I think," she said to herself, "I don't know. I think this is 
too big a deal to trust myself with. I'll have to ask somebody else 
what to do." 

	And she knew exactly who she wanted to ask.

**********

TO BE CONTINUED...


-- .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List---. | Administrators - ffml-admins@fanfic.com | | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@fanfic.com | | Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject | `---http://www.fanfic.com/FFML-FAQ.txt ---'