Fate-in time

11

They were traveling west to meet up with the main garrison stationed a distance away from the town of Wales.

Shirou sat idly on a wagon as the others set up camp, passing the time by inspecting a worn diary he had taken from Ashton manor.
"I always hated how every winter took away my husband from me, but I was happy this winter. With a warm blanket over my shoulders and a bowl of mashed potatoes to feed my bundle of pride and joy. My little boy."
Shirou raised a brow as he looked up and noticed the increasing number of stares. At first, he was used to the few who had initially stopped to stare at him; those who had volunteered to fight the beast with Kay and Sir Ector several years ago, but now a crowd of strangers had gathered whispering amongst themselves. They weren't even all Knights, or warriors, some just merchants who had allowed their wagons to be used as transport for the food supplies. Others, were nobles traveling with Baron Frederick to secure protection against any bandits. But what made him so interesting?
"T-This?" A man broke off from the crowd holding a small paring knife. "You made this?"
Shirou nodded, the symbol of the bow on his work unmistakable. But what was the big deal? He made plenty of knives and weapons, so what did it mean to be questioned about one?
"Y-You're the blacksmith of the Iron Forge!" One of the merchants spoke, pushing back the man with the paring knife.
Yes, yes he was. He had thought that would have been common knowledge by now, but it seems it wasn't. It probably had something to do with the way information got around in the medieval era. Letters were expensive, and not everyone knew how to read and write, which left only word of mouth to spread information. He frowned, as he heard someone in the back describe him to be some exaggerated hulk of a blacksmith. Obviously proven false now.
The merchant pressed forward and lowered his head. This was his chance. The value of any weapon made from the Iron Forge always traded for a high price, be it for military purposes or otherwise. "I-If you would take an order from me to ma-"
"Well if it isn't little Red."
Shirou smiled. There was only one person who called him that.
The merchant backpedaled as a man strode forward.
"Well, not so little anymore I see." Gerrard spoke offhandedly, bow hanging of from his belt.
"I-It's the swift wind!" The crowd parted as Gerrard made his way through.
Gerrard didn't acknowledge the title and acted as if nothing had happened. "Still though Red," he spoke. "I didn't think you'd be one to serve the army. Last I heard you became a smithy. Sad really, you'd have made a damn good archer."
"Put a cork in it Gerrard. He's not taking your job." Charles spoke.
"Why don't you put a cork in it, Lord Deadsacs." Gerrard rebutted.
Charles sputtered.
"Now where was I." Gerrard turned back to Shirou. "These people bothering you?" He asked, staring at the gathered crowd.
"Not anymore they won-"
"It's the Foul End! Cover your eyes and run away or he'll kill you with his brown caked unholy sword!"
The crowd parted along with a pale faced Charles, leaving a fuming Kay behind. Kay would gut that damn horse, he swore on it with the very blade in his sheath. The past few years had not been kind to Kay's reputation. Ever since his first day training the town's guards, everything had went spiraling out of control. At first everyone had known him as the Knight who took on a beast, but that all changed after the sixth time his sword launched fecal matter at his opponents.
From then on, everyone began to fear Kay's power. A man capable of standing up to a beast, and coupled with his poisoned blade that even a cut could lead to a foul end was frightening to most. Shirou said it had something to do with infections, but that was besides the point when no one knew what an infection was.
Kay muttered profanities quietly to himself as he approached Shirou and Gerrard.
"And so, the feared Knight arrives," Gerrard joked. Kay was not amused.
"Says the bowman who can kill a man without getting seen." Kay crossed his arms. "Either way, it's been a long time."
"Same to you, friend." Gerrard held out his hand. Kay shook it. "Say, what's that smell coming from Sir Ector over there?"
Kay shrugged nonchalantly. "Just some food Shirou made a while back."
"Well, it smells divine…" Gerrard walked towards Sir Ector who sat near a couple skewers over a fire. "Don't mind if I do." He plucked up a skewer and sunk his teeth into the meat. He froze, mind blanching as his eating pace increased. He finished the skewer and immediately picked up another.
Sir Ector raised a brow as he turned towards Kay's direction. "He's eating from your share." Sir Ector informed calmly even as he allocated his amount away from Gerrard's reaching hands.
"S-Stop you bastard! That's mine!" Kay ran, a panicked expression over his face as Gerrard refused to listen to him.
Shirou sighed, and pulled out a bag of dried meat he stored for long journeys. Looking down back at the diary, he flipped open to a page, and continued reading.
"My husband was my support, my pillar of strength through all the hardships of mothering. He would come home every day, tired from dealing with all the crap being a Duke entailed, but he did it for us. More than ever, we needed to stay hidden, and who would search the residence of a Duke? Nonetheless, the beasts were our partners, the Pact of Blood keeping us strong."
"It was spring now, and my little boy had just started to learn how to crawl, something that greatly amused his father. His curiosity getting the better of him, he decided to go bother his father's bird, Efret. Efret was much larger than my little boy, but he made certain to quell the heat of his feathers whenever they played. O Efret, what would I ever do without you?"
"Shirou, by any chance," Kay spoke suddenly and apologetically. "Did you happen to pack any cooking meat?"
Shirou stared at Kay, before looking passed him at Gerrard rubbing his stomach in content. So that was what was going on. Gerrard had managed to finish Kay's share, leaving Kay with the less than savory rations the others were eating around him.
He closed the diary, and propped it up inside the wagon.
"I'll cook some over there." Shirou moved to Sir Ector's fire, Kay following behind.
The wagon was left alone and unoccupied.
That was when a small breeze blew across the countryside, flipping the diary open to a single page with a small note that came loose and fell to the ground.
"I should have listened. S-Should have realized what they were truly after." The note was smudged and worn, small traces of dried blood scattered in the fading print. "I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. My little boy."
"Come now, lad," David patted Arturia's shoulder. "I'm sure they just went out for a little hunting trip."
Then why did they leave me? Arturia held the piece of parchment in her hands, reading it over and over again. The material itself was made from stretched animal skin and was hard to come by. So why would they waste such a precious resource and not just tell her up front?
"For explicit purposes, I, your brother Kay, and Shirou are required to leave Bristol. I hope you understand that…"
She didn't understand. She nearly crumpled the letter in her hands, until she caught herself about to do it. Why didn't he tell me? She pursed her lips thinking about Shirou. He would never have lied to her; he was her friend and Knight. But she never really asked him either. Her shoulders slumped until she made up her mind.
"I know what your thinking lad, and Sir Ector knew it as well." David held Arturia's sword in his hands, safely away from Arturia's reach. She wouldn't be going anywhere without it. "Now come rest inside, leave the farm work for me today. The Mrs.'s has prepared a small feast upon learning we were going to have another mouth to feed."
Arturia stared uselessly at her sword, before walking dejectedly into David's home. It was smaller than her home, but it was nice and cozy with the smell of morning grass. She frowned, frustrated at her own inability to immediately chase after those idiots. More over, which direction did they even go?
There was no way she would ever be able to find them without at least knowing a general direction, and even then, there were no guarantees. She slumped further into her dejection as she quickly realized she wouldn't be able to train without her sword.
"Oh, It's you!" A voice spoke excitedly.
Arturia stared up at the girl in front of her wearing a plain white dress that flowed past her knees.
Long locks of light blond hair now grown to barely reach her waist, Emily smiled at Arturia. "You were the one with Sir Shirou from, before, right?"
Arturia's mood soured further, although she didn't know what was causing her frustration.
"Shirou talks a lot about you." Emily twirled her hair with a finger. "You guys are surely the best of friends."
He does? She felt a smile about to tug at her lips, but she held her composure. It wouldn't do to alter Shirou's friend's image of her…wait. "S-Since when do you talk with Shirou?" She stuttered, confusing herself as she was unused to fumbling with her own words.
"I visit him at the smithy's as often as I can, offering him some of the fresh berries papa and I had gathered," Emily spoke fondly. "So, uhm-" She fiddled with the hem of her dress, taking her time to formulate the right question.
Arturia was frozen in place, her eyes glancing down at herself, then back at Emily's dress and long cascading hair. She didn't like the feeling rising within her chest, couldn't even name what it was. Yet it caused a twitch to form over her upper lip.
Heedless of any of Arturia's troubles, Emily continued on.
"-What does Shirou do in his spare time? You know, when he's not at the smithy's," Emily asked, eyes shying downward. "D-Does he talk about me?"
Arturia felt a sudden overwhelming burst of undirected animosity. Why did she have to tell her anything? She caught herself beginning to glare, and quickly smoothed over her facial features. She was staying at Emily's house, it would only be polite to not offend her. She justified.
"He talks about you sometimes," not that I've ever heard him speak of you. Her inner thoughts gave her pause. Sir Ector did not raise her to be this kind of Knight, yet why was she beginning to feel better?
"R-Really?" The amount of joy in Emily's voice forced a strained smile on Arturia's face, and that was all Emily needed as confirmation. She blushed as she realized that she hadn't even invited her family's guest, Sir Shirou's friend, Arthur, to the dinner table.
Apologizing, she quickly dragged the blond boy to where her mother had prepared a feast with the largest pig in the barn.
"Glad to see you both here," Linda, Emily's mother said.
"Just in time too," David added as he sat himself down. "It's been much faster to work the field with this system, and better equipment. That's just another thing we have to be thankful to Sir Shirou for."
Arturia nodded her head, unaware of her budding admiration for her friend. He was strong, smart, and wise enough that the town's people had begun to ask him for guidance. For example, what to do and eat in the case of the devil's presence, a state that reduced a man to constant coughing and head pain. Shirou called it a cold before promptly providing a concoction of herbs he had foraged in the forest, and advising bed rest. Other things he had advised to ward off the devil's sickness and bad spirits from causing undo harm to the body, was to stop throwing their shit onto the ground and bury it into a hole.
The town's people were astonished at the results; the dramatic reduction of what Shirou called the cold. A truly devious sounding name.
Nowadays, he was beginning to be referred to as the town's healer. Other less educated people, began to whisper the words of a Saint. For who could banish the devil's sickness, but a vessel and messenger of God?
"Well, let's say our prayers and eat," David said.
Taking a seat after a prayer, Arturia watched as Lynda moved and placed a couple slices of pork on her plate. Just looking at it made her realize just how much Shirou had spoiled her by cooking for her all the time. It didn't look very appetizing compared to the assortment of food Shirou always made. She had learned early on that he always cooked with variety: A side of meat, vegetables, and during spring, fruit. Still though, Sir Ector had taught her not to be rude, therefore she would eat the food prepared for her. She stared at her plate, and paused in thought.
Hadn't Shirou visited the Barron?
The thought struck her as her gaze fell over the pork on her plate. It wasn't bacon, but it was pig, and it was enough to remind her of what had occurred that morning. He went to the Barron's, she was sure of it.
She swallowed the entire thing in two bites before she pushed herself away from the table and out of her chair, drawing David, Emily, and Linda's attention. "I've got to go," she excused herself before promptly leaving through the door.
The wind whipped across her face as she ran, but she didn't mind the cold of the late afternoon. Rather, it served to increase her pace as she neared the Lord's manor. It was a tantamount to the amount of training that she had done that she wasn't winded in the slightest after running full sprint across Bristol, apologizing to every person she bumped. She may not have her sword, but if the Lord knew where her idiots had gone to, it would be a start.
Her pace slowed as she approached the tall iron gate of the manor and squeezed through a narrow gap. Unlike Shirou, she wasn't being expected by the Lord, therefore, she was trespassing. However, she needed to talk to him.
Sneaking had never been her specialty, but she had to try nonetheless. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking if anyone was around before she moved through the manor. Shirou had once told her in passing that the Lord's study was separate from the main manor, the Lord preferring to live a life similar to his Knights. It was something Arturia could respect. Rather than live in the luxuries that a noble's life no doubt entailed, he would choose to pursue a Knight's living conditions.
Perhaps that, was it? Her eyes locked on to the small detached building from the main manor, an open hallway leading to two large oaken doors. She walked silently, breathing slowly as she drew close.
Should she knock, or would it be better to open the doors without notice?
She furrowed her brows, her code of honour waging war within her. A Knight was not a man who would stick to the shadows, yet wasn't she being a hypocrite by sneaking into the manor? She shook her head, hypocrisy or not, she would let it slide this time for the purpose of getting her answers. Therefore, she had to open the door silently. Tentatively, she reached forward with her hand and-
She knocked, her body deflating. She couldn't do it, regardless of the circumstance it wasn't in her to take a man by surprise.
"Come in," A voice prompted her to open the door. "I wasn't expecting you to…?"
A man sat alone on his desk, peering over a map. Arturia swallowed, throat suddenly dry as she met James Wolfred's gaze for the first time. Shirou had never brought her along to meet the Lord, specifically because he said it had to do with his smithing business. However, she needed to talk with the Lord and now here she was. This was what she had wanted wasn't it? So why was it so difficult to voice her thoughts?
James scratched at his beard, watching the blond-haired lad fidget in front of him, trying to formulate his words. He hummed in thought. This was either the youngest assassin he had ever seen, or "You're Sir Ector's child, aren't you?" He gave him a rope to pull on.
"Yes," the child spoke as if he wasn't having trouble formulating his words mere moments ago. "About that, did you happen to know where Sir Ector went?"
"Me and Kay, us only."
James leaned over his hand, recalling Sir Ector's words. He would not be happy with him if he told his youngest where they had gone. It was the entire reason Sir Ector put up a fight against Baron Frederick.
"I'm afraid not lad. Perhaps they went hunting? The weather seems about right around now." James hoped this would be enough to dissuade the feminine boy.
The boy bit the inside of his cheeks, eyes downcast before lighting up with vigour. "Shirou, my friend, where did he go?" The boy asked.
James clicked his tongue. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. "I'm afraid I don't know. It has been a long time since I last saw him."
"Hogwash," Arturia said. "We were training together when he had to leave on your call." She was starting to get angry, and she knew it. Everyone was keeping secrets from her as if she wasn't strong enough or old enough to handle them. "Why are you lying to me?" She intoned, hands clenched in frustration.
James did not speak as if the act itself would tear an uncertain balance in the room.
A small respite, that James did not wish to break. What was he to do? Lie? He couldn't not when the lad knew of his association with the last Ashton. Then tell the truth and garner Sir Ector's ire? Either way, his best course of action was to say nothing. Sir Ector, nor Shirou could blame him for putting his youngest in danger.
The stillness in the room was beginning to get under Arturia's skin. Why wasn't he answering? The only other reason would be that-
She grit her teeth, her lips thinning.
H-He knew. The outrage of being left behind quickly crept up again to the front of Arturia's mind, and she was going to explode despite what her calm outward demeanor suggested. Luckily, someone else beat her to it.
"Father!" The son of Wolfred, kicked in the oaken doors. "Why did you send Palamid and the Ashton to war but not m-hegh!"
Faster than she had ever thought herself capable of moving, Arturia grabbed the scruff of the son of Wolfred's tunic. "…What did you just say?"
James sighed, there goes his quiet study.