presents...
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Sparks from Iron
Elsa's speeches written by the player.
Elsa had to admit it - the food was one of the greak perks of working in Vodacce. Not only was it good, but - in these noble households, anyway - there was plenty of it. She'd been given a small, light meal before the formal supper - she stood through it, along with the other honor guard. The other guards started out well enough, she'd thought, but only thirty or forty minutes into the affair, they were noticeably shifting their weight around. After an hour, they were sharing the occassional whisper back and forth. Elsa was fairly sure she was the only one to actually maintain attention the whole way through.
For better or for worse, Eisenfurst Sieger had been directly in her line of view. She'd been staring at him for two hours. It was distracting - she found herself rehearsing what she'd say to him, if she could, rather than staying alert to possible threats.
It had finally ended and, after she'd escorted Lady Donati to her chambers, she could go to the kitchens and help herself to whatever she liked that was left. A few of the other guards who were eating there tried having some fun at her expense, mocking her solemn attitude throughout dinner. To her surprise and satisfaction, Captain Donati - there to have a word with one of his men - jumped in to praise her exemplary behavior. In case they hadn't noticed, two crowned heads of Theah were staying in the house and, no matter how quiet and secure things seemed, the guards needed to be on the watch for trouble. Yes, it was hard and boring, but it was the job they were being paid, and paid well, to do. And he was going to be damned if his men looked more sloppy than the Morderbande scum Sieger had brought with him. He'd have been good if he'd stopped there, but Cristoforo couldn't resist the parting jab. "Ask Schuman if you can't figure out how to do your jobs. Women are used to standing quietly until they're needed." He clearly thought it was high humor. Her riposte was unfortunately lost in the guffaws of the men, and Donati had waved and left the kitchen before they quieted down.
She kept her irritation off her face until she left the kitchen. The din and light of the kitchen, where the servants would be up until late feasting and cleaning, faded behind her. The night was typical Vodacce Julius - thick and hot. The candle flames that lit the hall stood as still as stones until she passed them. Then they flickered, making the shadows ahead dance.
Elsa noticed when one shadow failed to move. Up ahead, in a pool of darkness between the candles, someone was slouched against the wall. There was a window opposite, which would allow a view of the garden. But at this time of the month, there wouldn't be much to see - the moon was small and dim.
She kept a wary eye on the man as she approached. Cristoforo Donati was right about one thing - the Morderbande mercenaries Sieger used as his personal retainers were some of the lowest, filthiest scum in Theah. If this were one of them...
It was not. "Gute Nacht, Frau," said Erich Sieger as she came nearer.
She nodded briskly, slowly slightly but not stopping. "Good night, Eisenfurst." She figured that, for all he knew, she was running an errand for someone who actually cared about the people who worked for him. There was no need to stop.
She was past him when he laughed, quietly, deeply, and without much mirth. "You have something you want to say to me, frau. Why don't you?"
Elsa stopped, turned. "Because you are Don Antonio's guest, sir. I would not be impolite to a guest."
"Go ahead and be impolite. I don't give a shit." He hauled himself up off the wall. "Unless you're afraid to say to my face what was in your eyes at dinner."
Elsa stiffened. "Certainly not." She paused. "You blind, stubborn, heartless traitor."
Sieger smirked. No other response. Elsa went on. "I watched good men die for you, and you betrayed their memory. When the Imperator surrended, my heart was pierced. When the Hierophant did not stop Castille from claiming our land, my soul died. But when you salted the fields and burned the earth, it was as if you dug up my fallen comrades and defecated on their remains. You have defiled the Fatherland."
That seemed to wipe the smirk off his face. "Really." It was almost a grunt, hardly any intonation at all. "And what would your solution have been?" He asked it like one of the professors at the academy during a war game.
"Let Castille take the land. Your people would remeber they were Eisen. That fact would remail ever in their hearts. They would bide their time, nurse their wounds, and when Castille was distracted... Strike. Even if it took a generation, the land would return to Eisen."
He snorted and shook his head. "In twenty years, if Wische and Fischler are whole again, do come and spit on my grave." He looked her in the eye and slowly lifted his left hand. He wore on it the dracheneisen panzerhand that the Imperator had, long ago, given to the Sieger family when he made them his barons. "I have been beaten, and I have healed. I have been cut, and I have healed. The loss of my arm, my leg, cannot be healed. I am Sieger. Sieger will heal." He settled back against the wall.
Elsa did not yet go. "The dead will not heal."
"It was war. People die."
"They did not have to."
"So you say. Gute Nacht, Soldat."
They glared at each other in the dim orange light. She tried to will him to admit his error, or even some doubt - but the eisenfurst clearly felt no need to explain or defend himself further. "Gute Nacht, Eisenfurst," she nodded abruptly, and stalked off down the corridor, leaving him to continue his brooding in the dancing shadows behind her.
Back to Game 24 log.
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