Conquest of Avalon

It figures that this would have to go down on the hottest day of the year.

Florette lifted her mask to wipe sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She readjusted it back into place, staring out at the irritatingly still plain before her, vast grasslands interrupted only by a lone ridge in the distance and the trail of metal and wood stretching out towards it.

The Summer Solstice had arrived, the longest day of the year, when the sun spirit Soleil spent more time present than any other. Given that the High Priest of said spirit was apparently a colossal prick, that might mean trouble for Fernan, but he could probably handle it.

He’d managed a lot more, even when it had seemed like he was destined simply to return to that village of mediocrity, content to follow the path before him unquestioningly. It was impressive, really.

Perhaps he’d taken her words to heart. It was a nice thought, anyway.

Meanwhile, here I am.

There wasn’t much in the way of cover, not yet anyway, and what was available further ahead was far more crucial to employ later. But Florette had managed to find a patch of grass tall enough to conceal her when scouting the area before. Eloise had spot-checked to make sure, standing far closer than any potential witnesses might.

Even if it was monstrously uncomfortable laying on her stomach to stay out of sight. The mask she’d made only exacerbated the problem, turning a task as simple as itching her nose into a potentially dangerous maneuver.

Malin had been bad enough, but at least there the sea had provided a breeze from time to time, especially near the beach. Why couldn’t they have taken a ship? It all came back to that stupid harbor bombing.

According to Camille, Charlotte was still alive, so perhaps she had found the culprit after all, or at least learned how the blue earring connected to all of it. The detective might have just used Perimont’s departure as an opportunity to drop it, though. Without talking to her, there was no way to really know for sure.

The whistle of the steam powered monstrosity sounded in the distance, prompting Florette to flatten herself further against the ground.

This is it.

A ways down the tracks, she’d left a wagon of hay sitting square atop them. With its axle broken, it would prove an innocent-looking obstruction that would nonetheless require the train to stop. The manual had made it clear that this was a common problem, especially on this continent, where people weren’t yet used to the advanced technology.

Even in Avalon, it had apparently taken years for the campaigns against ‘provincial walking’ to catch on; they’d framed anyone walking or resting atop railroad tracks as a witless rube. With tracks most often built over common roadways and passageways, people had had to learn to avoid the paths they’d once traveled as a matter of course. At least, a worker on the railyard she’d bought a drink had said that while explaining how he’d ended up in Malin after being arrested for walking atop them, then fined within an inch of his life.

Regardless, this train would stop when the engineer at the front saw the obstruction. The manual had been utterly unambiguous about that much.

Indeed, as it barreled closer, Florette heard the telltale screech of its brakes, hissing and whining as it approached.

The train had slowed to a crawl by the time it passed, the joyous gust of wind still traveling in its wake enough to alleviate the heat for an instant, though only that.

With one final shudder, the train stopped.

And now my true work begins.

Florette crawled forward slowly, careful to remain out of line-of-sight. As she approached, she saw several people dismount at the front, walking forward to examine the obstruction. Once they saw it was simply an unattended wagon, they would move it and be on their way. All told, all it would really do was delay them by a few minutes.

That was all she needed.

A bit of surveillance had been enough to be sure this was a standard military convoy train, the sort used all over Lyrion to the north, and that gave it a very predictable layout: a luxury caboose at the back for officers, followed by a barracks car packed tight with soldiers.

Then, cargo. Rations, uniforms, munitions, and so on. The contents would vary on any given voyage. Several more barrack cars would be interspersed throughout, leading up to the front. No more than four cargo cars between them was the rule, according to the assembly manual.

But this time, the bounty would be far greater than mundane military equipment. This time, there would be guns.

Florette counted out the cars carefully, then shimmied towards the third one from the back. When she was close enough, she rose to a crouch and quietly climbed up the side. The sightlines were important, since the caboose had windows, but still easy enough to avoid. Especially after practicing so much in the past weeks.

By the time it started moving again, Florette had perched herself on the front of a cargo car, far outside the sight of any soldiers or officers.

“Wow, you made it,” Eloise said flatly as she approached up from the other side, breaking into a slight jog to keep pace with the train. “Give me a hand?”

Florette reached out and pulled her up, letting her fingers linger a bit longer than necessary. “I beat you here.”

Eloise shrugged. “Fair enough. Good to go?”

“Everything went perfectly.” Florette unhooked the latch on the door into the cargo car in front of them. She pulled the door back as quietly as she could manage, easy enough with the wind whipping by as they picked up speed, then waved a hand inside. “After you.”

≋

“Though it seems a futile gesture, I do feel compelled to ask one final time: please refrain.” Camille looked better than she had in months, with no bags under her eyes and a dark green dress that fit her perfectly. Her hair had grown out enough for the blonde atop to look less like a mistake and more like a choice, if a questionable one, and the wind blowing it back framed her face nicely. It stood out like a beacon against the grass behind her, almost entirely brown now.

“Did you go to a tailor?” Florette asked, pointedly ignoring the question. “Since when do you even have the money to do that?”

“Since it became a priority. I can’t return to Guerron looking like some windswept wastrel. Prince Grimoire understood.”

I bet he did. “He just wants you out of here as soon as possible. It’s overdue already.”

Camille sighed. “I know. But Perimont dragged his feet, departing, and so I had to do the same. The last thing I need is to hear that he clawed his way back to power the moment I left.”

“Luce should have packed him on a ship weeks ago, or better yet, hanged the bastard. What happened to that conviction?”

“The soldiers here answered to Perimont for over a decade. The Prince walks a precarious position, and forcing the issue could see him being the one exiled instead.” Camille’s lips curled up smugly. “At least, if I’m not here to prevent it.”

“Yes, thank the spirits you’re here. We’d all be lost without you.”

“You’re managing to lose yourself enough as it is with this stupid robbery. Please, I beseech you, don’t.” She raised her hands, pleading, eyes soft and wide.

I love seeing you beg. “Nope. I’ve been planning this for ages, I’ve gathered the crew, practiced all the motions, even done all that annoying math. It’s done. I’m just waiting for the right train.” This was the sort of thing one only got to do once, after all. It would be a laughable shame to go to all that effort for a train car full of military raincoats or something.

Instantly, Camille’s expression hardened once more, making it all the clearer that her supplicant pose before had simply been an act. “That prince whose cousin you killed won’t like this.”

Florette shook her head. “He’s a pacifist, and we’re stealing weapons. Don’t tell him or anything, but my conscience is clear.”

“How comforting.”

“Look, what are you worried about? Everyone’s identity is going to be hidden. ‘Celine’ won’t be compromised, and so neither will you. Even then, Luce knows you’re Camille.”

“That’s not the same thing as knowing I brought the railyard robber into the city as my bodyguard, which is what Simon and the rest will all think if it gets out that it’s you. I’ve already been running around trying to distance myself from you enough as it is. I made it clear our contract was severed and the like, that I never knew where you truly came from.” She bit her lip. “It won’t be enough, I don’t think. Not if you’re found out.”

Florette sighed. “But you’ll be gone by then! Who cares?”

She blinked. “Did you ever think that maybe I just don’t want you to get caught and executed? This is a stupid risk. Don’t take it.”

“Oh, please. You’re just worried it’ll mess up all the work you put into manipulating Simon.”

Her gaze turned to the side, not disputing it. “There’s no talking you out of this? Truly?”

“I’m afraid not.” Florette smiled. “You’re still welcome to come. It would make things a lot easier.”

“Pff!” She covered a laugh with her hand. “I think not.”

“Then there’s nothing more to say.” Florette turned her back, ready to leave.

“Wait.” Camille exhaled sharply as Florette looked back over her shoulder. “Simon came to me, he said… The Summer Solstice. Perimont and Grimoire agreed, after a bit of negotiation. He’ll be leaving then, with a host of his most loyal underlings and everything he requisitioned from Lyrion before. That’s why it took him so long to get out, collecting it all back up and getting everyone ready. Grimoire doesn’t know that part, though.”

Florette grinned. “How kind of him to gather everything in one place. I’ll be sure to thank him when I see him next.”

≋

“Really seeing those classic Avalon smarts on display here.” Eloise carved an ‘X’ into the crate she’d been looking at, conveniently labeled ‘Lightbringer Mark II; 31’. Similar labels of paper were nailed into each of the crates, conveniently showing which contained what, at least provided you knew the code.

“I don’t even know why they bothered.” Florette kept the sheet in her pocket, just in case, but nothing had come up yet that she hadn’t memorized. It helped that most of the codes were simple: ‘lightbringer’ for the elongated guns, ‘ambrosia’ for rations—which seemed wildly optimistic— ‘black tie’ for the uniforms… “They should have just picked arbitrary code, then used one of those cyphers or something.”

Eloise laughed. “You think the people hauling boxes around are going to decrypt a cypher? Those poor saps probably struggle enough with just this when they’re sorting it.”

Florette nodded. “I suppose it wasn’t really designed to stop something like this, anyway.” She glanced at the final crate of the car, labeled ‘Thronebreaker Mark VII; 6’. “Interesting…” She carved an ‘X’ into it with her own knife.

“Thronebreaker? Was that on the list?”

“Nope. But it’s just one crate. Couldn’t hurt, even if it’s not worth much. In fact—” she picked up the crowbar and began prying open the crate. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

Inside were dozens of pistols. Just like the one Lumière used. It was hard to be sure when she’d only seen it once, but they looked nearly identical.

Florette pulled one at and held it at different angles, trying to get a better look at the weapon. She kept the tube pointed at the wall, just in case.

Lumière had put his index finger into the hole underneath the tube, which probably meant that it triggered the cannon to fire, but there was a catch at the back, too. Gingerly, Florette pulled it back, causing it to click into place, but the weapon didn’t do anything else.

A prerequisite, then. Most likely, anyway. Lumière had done that thing with his thumb first, which was probably clicking it back. It had been hard to tell at a distance, though.

Still, I might have just figured it out. With that done, she could put her full attention on the unloading.

“Mmm…” Eloise’s lip curled. “Captain Verrou always said to be careful not to get sidetracked. Maybe it’s fine here, but stick to the plan.”

You’re one to talk, after all that extra smuggling. “Ugh, I know. I still think we could have gotten more. Could get around the barracks cars by climbing over the roof, and then later when we’re unloading—”

“Florette.”

“I know, I know!” She turned back around. “We’re done, then. Next car’s full of soldiers. Protocol is to run a patrol through every hour, so we’re more than fine.”

“Shame about the miniscule haul then. Almost isn’t worth it.” She was smiling as she said it. “How are we on time?”

Florette poked her head out of the door, wind blasting her face as she did. The mountain towered ahead, the landmark she’d picked out still in the distance before it. “Ten minutes before we need to be ready, to be safe. Probably more like fifteen in practice, though.”

“I should have just stolen Luce’s wristwatch. Would have made this so much easier.”

“He’s done enough.” According to Eloise, he’d directly inspired the next step, and even helped with as much of the math as she could share without being suspicious about it. “The less that’s tied to us, the better.”

“Just like life in general, really.” She folded her arms, shockingly bony now. Her hair had grown out a bit too, now, but it was lacking the slight reflective sheen it should have had. Behind the mask Florette had made for her, it was impossible to see her face, but Florette had seen enough before: sunken eyes, blotchy skin. Better now than when she’d first arrived, but still…

This would help.

“I can see why you feel that way.” Especially after what you’ve been through. It was almost too horrible to contemplate, stranded amidst hostile spirit-touched with barely anything to eat or drink, trudging along the coast of Refuge for weeks on end without anyone she could trust for company.

Eloise hadn’t even said that much. Florette had had to get it thirdhand from Camille from Luce, and even then she got the sense that he had left out a lot of details.

“I finally talked to Jacques,” she said after a moment of pause. “I think it went alright.”

“Alright? He tried to have Claude killed!”

“Yeah, that was heavy handed. He might be slipping, but I think everything going on just made him extra paranoid.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I told him I killed Claude. Close that loop, you know.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

“He offered me my old job,” she said instead of answering. “Said the books have never been the same since I left. Hard to believe there’s no hard feelings, but… I don’t know.”

I do.

It wasn’t hard to connect the thoughts. Eloise had set off on her own, captain of her own ship, and failed almost immediately. Somehow she and the prize hostage had been thrown from the ship, and then the crew had ended up captured by Avalon.

But what good would bringing that up do?

“Don’t,” she said instead. “Jacques is a murderous asshole. Once this job is done we can get the guns to Captain Verrou and we’ll be set for a while. Travel, like we talked about. Maybe we could visit the High Kingdom! Get out of the heat, and see all the landmarks from Olwen’s Song.”

“Yeah...” This isn’t working.

“Look, I’ve had this conversation with Fernan a thousand times. What’s familiar seems comforting, it’s safe. But it’s bullshit. Life only moves in one direction, and that’s forward. You got out already. Why would you ever settle for going back?”

Her face was unreadable behind the mask.

“Just because things didn’t go well when you were a captain—”

“Our time’s up.” She opened the front door of the train car and pointed ahead to the next landmark, a fence post they’d planted in the ground yesterday to mark the right time.

“Right.” Florette followed her out, reaching down to the large metal latches keeping the train cars connected to each other. With Eloise’s help, she positioned herself just right to pull the final lever and disconnect them.

The seconds before the post were agonizing, her eyes fixed ahead to get the timing exactly right. When the moment arrived, she pulled it up as rapidly as possible.

The train pulled ahead slowly, momentum still propelling the cars they’d disconnected nearly as fast, for now. Mass times velocity, just like we calculated out.

Very convenient, to find all those formulae amidst the schematics. They’d been almost unintelligible at first, but Eloise knew the language and her numbers better, and that had been enough. At least, after several days going over it, and then several more double checking everything.

They’d still made sure to leave a generous amount of leeway, just in case. Especially when the cargo contents would vary the weight of each train car slightly. And if things went really wrong, they’d still be clear themselves.

The distance grew wider, until it was more than the length of a single car. They slowed more and more, while the engine ahead seemed to be maintaining its speed.

They would notice soon and stop; that was inevitable. But it would take a minute, with visibility of the back from the front so obscured. Especially with the tunnel through the mountain coming up ahead.

The gap was huge now, as large as they could have hoped for. Certainly, it was enough.

“Remember to roll,” she told Eloise. “The section of the manual about bailing out said it helps you come to a stop more gradually.”

Eloise nodded, then jumped from the train. An instant later, Florette followed from the other side.

Then the ground shook as the explosives went off.

Perfect.

The tunnel collapsed, cutting the back off from the engine at the front. If they wanted to come back now, they’d have to hike over the mountain or go around. Either could take hours.

Inside, people were probably panicking now, but it was impossible to see. Either way, they continued slowing down. By the time they actually collided with the rubble blocking the tunnel, the impact was soft enough that it wouldn’t hurt anyone inside too badly. That was the plan, anyway. There was a reason they’d jumped off first, just in case.

Now that the train had stopped, it was easier to hear the screams of panic, shouts of dismay.

All of the windows of the caboose had been blown out, shards of glass scattered everywhere around it.

Florette stood, ignoring the pit in her stomach, and marched forward towards the luxury caboose and the separate train car full of soldiers in front of it. Eloise fell into step beside her.

She nodded to Jean and Paul as she saw them wheel a wagon out from under the tree branches they’d been hiding it under, bringing it closer to the train. The horses were stashed further away, where it would be easier to conceal them. But now that the explosion had sounded, their handler would be gathering them to bring to the mouth of the cavern.

“Thanks again,” she said as they got closer. They’d been her ticket into the railyard, all those months ago. She’d paid them off, enough to leave, but an Avalon customs agent had stolen everything before they could make it out.

“Pleasure’s mine.” Paul, the older man, shrugged. “With pay like you promised, I’d be stupid not to.”

Jean, the boy, nodded in agreement. “I’ve never gotten to set off explosives before! That was insane!”

“You timed it just right.” Florette patted him on the shoulder as she passed, but kept walking. “Wait for the signal, either way. Go ahead and run if it’s the bad one. Otherwise, gather the others and start unloading.”

She took a deep breath as she approached the front of the barracks car, where it was attached to the cargo containers ahead, steeling herself.

“You’ll do fine, Flor. I’m not worried.” Eloise patted her on the back. “Come on.” She hopped up and held out her hand.

Florette grabbed it and jumped up alongside her. Then she kicked the unblocked door to the barracks car open. “No one move a muscle! There’s a lot more gunpowder where that came from.”

She strode confidently into the car, brandishing the pistol, daring the soldiers to attack her.

There were more than thirty of them crammed into the windowless train car, with the largest two standing in front of the back door, and the threshold of Perimont’s caboose.

Eloise remained at the front, not saying a word.

“We’ve got enough explosives under the tracks to blow this whole train into the sun. If you don’t fancy meeting Soleil, you’ll let us do our work here and leave. That’s all it takes. Just do nothing!” She pointed her pistol around the room, leveling it on each soldier for a moment before moving onto the next. “You’ll all need to drop your weapons too, of course.”

“Don’t,” a familiar voice called out from their ranks.

Florette scanned the room as fast as she could, stopping when she glimpsed none other than Captain Whitbey. Fuck, why didn’t I see him sooner? This mask was really messing with her peripheral vision.

“You’re bluffing.”

“Fucking try me.”

Whitbey clasped his hands together, leaning back in his seat. Even in the cramped car, he’d manage to fit a larger chair and desk for himself. “You aren’t assassins, or the rear cars would have been your first targets. Indeed, with what you’ve managed, destroying the entire train would be trivial.”

“I never said we were here to assassinate anyone. Your precious Perimont can live, if you cooperate. Otherwise, things will be more difficult for you.”

He smiled. “No, I suppose not. You’re thieves, obviously. Criminal scum here to steal Avalon’s ideas because you lack any of your own. Selfish and foolish, no doubt, but not suicidal. You wouldn’t set off explosives that would catch you in the blast. I’m doubtful that you even planted any more than what already went off.”

“Ha!” Florette began laughing. “How narrow minded are you?” She folded her arms. “There’s a rat in your ranks. Nothing worse than a rat, is there?”

Whitbey blinked.

“How do you think we knew to target this train, at this time? With your precious Governor and his precious guns aboard. Do you think it was a coincidence?” She laughed again, making sure to shake her whole body. “I won’t lie; we’d rather have the guns ourselves. But destroying them would be just as good. Maybe better, with Perimont gone.”

“There are thieves and there are idealogues. I’ve hanged enough of both to know—”

“You’ve killed children.” Florette pointed the pistol at him. “Innocents. If you and I were to die together, the world would be a far better place. I have nothing left. Avalon took everything from me. You, and Perimont and King fucking Harold. This is it.” She laughed again, or perhaps it was crying. They sounded much the same through a mask. “So, fine. If you insist.”

“I—”

“Arm it!” she shouted outside. “Get this shit ready to blow!”

That was not, in fact, the signal.

Whitbey didn’t look like he entirely believed her, though his composure was beginning to break.

That didn’t matter. He wasn’t the one she needed to convince.

“Stop!” Perimont’s voice called out from the caboose, muffled through two layers of doors but still barely audible. “Do what she says!”

Whitbey wrinkled his nose. “Very well,” he sighed. “Guardians, drop your weapons. It seems we’ll be waiting here for a bit before we can disembark.”

Florette smiled behind her mask, spinning the pistol around her finger like she’d seen Lumière do back at the duel. Then she thumped the side of the train car twice, the actual signal for everyone else to begin.

She stepped outside to supervise while Eloise kept an eye on the soldiers, taking in the buzz of activity.

Several wagons had been gathered, a pair of horses already hitched up to each. That had been enormously expensive, but this was about to make it all worth it. Unless things went horribly wrong, she could still sell them after, anyway.

With the valuable crates marked in advance, the crew carried them out like a machine, quickly loading each wagon and sending it on its way. Once they made it to the city, they’d duck into the tunnel entrances at the north end and scatter it at the drop point.

Not everyone could be trusted completely, but there were a few people who came close, like Jean and Paul, and one of them would be with every group. Hopefully it would be enough, but even getting these weapons out of Avalon’s hands was a win, as far as Florette was concerned. Separating them out would mitigate some of the potential damage, at least.

When they were done, Florette ducked back into the barracks, a flutter in her chest. “Thank you for your hospitality on this fine summer’s day. It’s been a pleasure!”

Whitbey scowled, but didn’t say a word.

“Make sure to count to one thousand before you leave the car. It would be a shame to have to blow you up after you were so nice about this.” She clicked her tongue. “Still, you know, we’ll do it if you give us a reason. Au revoir!”

She felt a giddy energy as she hopped down off the train, Eloise following closely behind.

All the wagons had left by now, leaving only the horse left for the two of them, tied up at the very end of the caboose. Mercifully, Eloise could ride, something Captain Verrou apparently made everyone learn for purposes just like this, which meant they got to go together.

“...nothing to be worried about, Joseph. It’s just a minor setback. As if those mongrels have the slightest idea how to use them.”

“Hold on a second,” Florette said as Eloise walked ahead towards the horse.

“What are you doing?”

“...The better part of our armaments will make it to Lyrion, and more are coming from Cambria anyway. The important thing was making sure that royal brat couldn’t use them against us.”

Florette hopped up the side of the caboose, peering in through the broken windows as covertly as she could.

“As you say, sire. I still think she was bluffing.”

“It wasn’t a risk worth taking, not over something so trivial. A few hours’ walk around the side of the mountain and we’ll be back on the train to Lyrion in no time. The offensive needn’t even be rescheduled.”

“Flor!” Eloise hissed, mounting her horse. “Come on!”

“...to shreds, no doubt. Guerron will be leveled as a lesson to those who stand against us. We should have done it seventeen years ago, but at least Prince Harold has seen the light. If Lumière can’t get his house in order, there’s no other recourse.” The slight rumbling of a laugh trailed out from the caboose, muffling a few of the words. “...still be killed, of course. Lucien Renart, Annette Debray, Fernan Montaigne. Any of those barbarians who submit themselves to evil spirits.”

Fernan.

“Come on!” Eloise called again, slightly louder this time.

“I’m sorry,” Florette muttered, not sure who she was saying it to. She clicked the back of the gun, aiming it carefully. Once it pointed right at Perimont’s chest, she fired.

The shock was so strong she fell over, the gun flying out of her hands.

Before she had a second to think, another shot rang out, even more deafening than the last. Her left ear could hear only a high-pitched whine, and when she held her hand to it, she felt blood.

Blinking away tears, she saw Whitbey leaning his head out of the window, looking down and shouting. “That’s Celine! From the party!”

Fuck.

Only then did she see her mask lying on the dirt, cracked at the edge, bloody where it had covered her ear.

The sound diluted to nothing as the air filled with overpowering ringing, pitched so high it felt like a splinter in her skull. But there was no time.

She leapt to her feet as fast as she could and ran south, towards the city.

They would be following. If she so much as tripped…

Eloise swept in beside her not a moment too soon. She said something inaudible, probably along the lines of “You gigantic fucking idiot,” then pulled her up onto the horse.

A chill passed through her as they fled into the omnipresent twilight, the sunset stretching across the entire horizon as the light slowly decayed to nothing.

“Thank you!” she said to Eloise as they passed out of sight of the train, riding towards the fading light of the day. She couldn’t even hear herself over the sound of the painful ringing, nor could she hear what Eloise said back.

But she felt her grab her bloody hand, and for now, that was enough.