Ash looked around the room and cleared his throat to break the slightly awkward silence. “I can show you around,” he volunteered. “The armory’s not far from here, then we can look around the tunnels. They can be confusing until you get used to them.” He was reluctant to leave the window, but it wasn’t much good to see the discussion without hearing it. Glancing at Jate and Dante, he gestured down one hallway. “Armory’s down there.”

Ash looked around the room and cleared his throat to break the slightly awkward silence. “I can show you around,” he volunteered. “The armory’s not far from here, then we can look around the tunnels. They can be confusing until you get used to them.” He was reluctant to leave the window, but it wasn’t much good to see the discussion without hearing it. Glancing at Jate and Dante, he gestured down one hallway. “Armory’s down there.”

The Phantom watched them go, fingers still drumming on the hilt of his greatsword. He looked down to find that he had absently bared a handspan of blade. Fragments of hard-edged torchlight glinted on the steel.

He jammed it home again with more force than necessary. The air in the Keep might well have thrummed, the stone might well have been vibrating beneath his feet, for how much hung on the negotiations outside. The panorama on the wall flickered and died, runes sparkling dully, but the Phantom didn't renew the enchantment.

All there was to do was wait.

"I hate waiting," he muttered, and folded his arms to lean again the passage wall. One more glimpse of Ash and Jate's retreating backs made him flick a glance at Silvryn. She'd made no reply. Any of them could have told him - aye, it would continue to be Silvryn's fight. He knew as well as any how firm her stance held on that.

"I think he'll make a king," the Phantom commented, half to himself, half to Silvryn. "With some practice."

_________________

Silvryn nodded wordlessly, still staring after Jate as he, Ash, and Dante disappeared around the corner. She nearly commented on how young he was, before she realized that he could not be more than a few years younger than she. If all went well, she would soon be leading a kingdom - what was to stop Jate from doing the same? Granted, she had considerably more training in the art of leadership, but training was no match for innate skill. One had only to compare the Phantom and the Regent to confirm that much.

No, as little as she relished the thought of Kytana being ruled by another, she had to admit that there were far worse candidates than Jateyani Ralkaien. He was young and inexperienced, but she could sense a natural leader, deep down. Kytana would benefit from its new king.

Provided, of course, that he ever received the oppotunity to rule.

"If there is to be a battle, then we need to evacuate as many civilians as can be managed," she said abruptly, turning back toward the Phantom. "How much longer do you imagine we will have until all of the escape tunnels are blocked?"

----------

"If preserving life had not been my intent," Commander Sorian replied, "then I would not have issued the summons. Your rebellion has already killed many good men; I do not wish to lose more if there is an alternative available."

Kjan considered mentioning that they never killed anyone who did not have the intention of doing the same to them, that he had seen many more 'good men' die on the Regent's gallows than at the hands of a rebel, but somehow he managed to bite his tongue and instead simply nodded.

"That is commendable," he said slowly. "We, likewise, would prefer to avoid excessive bloodshed if at all possible. But as Eledhe stated, we need time to confer with our leader. Surely you can spare us a week in which we may fully consider our options?"

"Until they're all found," replied the Phantom, unsmiling. He stared fixedly at the stone wall for a few seconds, as though contemplating the blood-red rune glowing there, and turned sharply back to Silvryn. "Most are well hidden. But as soon as the mages have time to search..."

He trailed off. None of the entrances were as well hidden as all that. The Phantom exhaled a long breath. "If we start now, perhaps we could evacuate most."

And where would they go? Into the wilderness of mountains, where nights dropped below freezing and there were no villages for miles upon miles? Hardly. Could they stay? Only if they welcomed impending death. "Bloody cursed Regent and his bloody army," muttered the Phantom.

He didn't apologize for the oaths.

---

The commander, standing with arms folded and stance wide, barked a dry laugh. "I see two options," he said in response, giving them both an unblinking stare. "You surrender, or you do not. The decision requires no more than a day."

"Oh aye, because a community full of people is adept at deciding how much they value their lives on the spur of a few moments," shot back Eledhe, mask of composure never slipping an inch, but eyes growing harder. "Five days. Then you will have your answer."

_________________

Jate turned dutifully to follow Ash, casting a short look back at the princess and leader. "So..." he began after a few turns down the hallway. "About the Keep. How many people do you think are living here? It would be kind of nice to get to know about the place, since I think I'll be a resident as long as it's around."

_________________
going on a journey through my old claims

Silvryn didn't reply immediately, instead trying to mentally picture the various escape routes leading from the Keep. Most went into the wilderness and therefore were not ideal, especially given the number of children involved. The tunnel leading directly into the capital was nearly completed, but that would do little good anyway. Several led into the wooded area between the Keep and Y'rydha, which was safer than the wilderness but too populated to conceal upward of a thousand refugees for very long. But then, they had a better chance of survival in any of those places than if they were inside the Keep when it fell.

When the Keep fell. Silvryn deliberately directed her thoughts away from that eventuality. "We will get them out," she said firmly, unsure whether she was speaking to herself or the Phantom. If they succeeded in nothing else, they would prevent the deaths of people whose only crime was living in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Resisting the urge the pace impatiently, she smoothed the hem of her tunic and folded her arms across her chest. "You are more familiar with Kjan's abilities than I. How do you imagine he and Eledhe are faring?"

----------

"Two days," Sorian stated flatly. "A day to contemplate, a night to sleep on it, and a day to reach a conclusion. That is two days longer than I should be giving you, and more than enough time to discuss with your leader."

"It's not just about talking to the Phantom," Kjan countered. "We believe in the right of the people to determine their own fate, rather than simply accept what the higher powers have deemed to be sufficient. Before a decision is made, we will provide each and every citizen of the Keep with the opportunity to have a voice in it, and the majority will rule. All of us have invested much in this rebellion, and we are aware that surrender will cost us much more than our home. This decision cannot be made without fully considering the consequences."

There was a pause as the commander considered. "I will not offer longer three days," he said at last. "I take great risk in even allowing you the option of surrender. In three days, if I have not been informed of a decision, my men will attack."

"Anything Kjan and Eledhe can accomplish will be impressive," responded the Phantom, not looking at Silvryn but at the opposite wall. "I expect a demand for surrender. The only variable is how much time we have."

He shook his head once, as if banishing some insistent thought, and turned to face her. Enough wallowing in self-pity. They had hours, days if they were lucky, to act. "We'll have to get them out," he began. "The families, the children. Find somewhere for them to go. Some will have to stay here."

Perhaps a smile cracked in the stone wall of his expression. "Will there be any convincing you to go with those who leave?"

---

Eledhe had learned a considerable amount about haggling, in her years of arguing over commission with various grasping nobles. She had learned when to haggle over the last copper - and she had learned when the price would not go any higher, and to try was to risk losing it altogether.

The commander's bodyguard was shifting in their chainmail, itchy fingers creeping toward their weapons. This was not the time to haggle over a copper.

"Three days," she repeated, finding that a shuriken had slipped into her fingers without conscious consent. "Daybreak, then. In three days." The star vanished, and she thrust out a hand wordlessly.

The commander shook it once, grip reminiscent of the same steel he carried by his side, and smiled thinly. Like the edge of a razor. "Inform your leader that if he has any clever plans up his sleeve, he would be advised to keep them there."

_________________

A trace of a wry grin flashed across Silvryn's features before she caught herself, opting to arch an eyebrow at him instead. The Phantom knew perfectly well the answer to that question, she suspected. They had worked together long enough for him to know that she could be just as stubborn as he, when the occasion called for it. The question was likely more a formality than anything else.

"You are welcome to try it," she replied dryly, her expression indicative of just how successful he would be. "Though I thought we had resolved this matter last night."

----------

"Likewise," Kjan replied with a forced smile, shaking the commander's hand firmly. Three days. Not nearly as long as he would have liked, but better than nothing. They could accomplish a fair amount in three days, if they worked hard enough. More makeshift weapons could be fashioned, those wielding the weapons could receive at least rudimentary training, and they could at least attempt to evacuate the unarmed citizens of the Keep. Provided that the commander honored their agreement, of course.

The last thing that Kjan wanted to do was turn his back on a group of men that looked like they would not object horribly to his death, but he and Eledhe needed to return to the Keep as quickly as possible to apprise the Phantom of the situation. They would simply have to trust that this Commander Sorian was as eager to avoid bloodshed as he claimed.

Kjan bowed with exaggerated courtesy, then turned to leave. "See you in three days."

Last night. The Phantom swallowed an involuntary sound somewhere between a cough and a gulp, and flicked her a quick glance. Silvryn's expression hadn't changed. "Right," he managed. "Resolved. Yeah."

He was rescued from prolonging the pregnant pause further by the flickering life of the magical screen on the wall. Negotiations appeared to have concluded. Waving a hand for Silvryn to follow, the Phantom abandoned his vantage point in order to descend and meet the intrepid negotiators.

He wasn't sure what he expected. Perhaps it was dangerous to have expectations at all.

---

Sorian folded his arms over his armored chest - close to the hilt of his broadsword - and watched the pair until they disappeared. A wave of his gauntleted hand indicated that those standing bodyguard duty were dismissed.

Once back in his tent, he idly ran calloused fingers over the map spread on his folding table. Rays of the dawning sun lit the royal purple canvas of the tent from behind, spilling the tint across the parchment. Sorian liked the look of it; domination over all of Kytana, unrivaled by any. Even the area labeled Rebel Territory was flushed with violet.

Violet. He frowned contemplatively, as if trying to remember something. Violet.

When he exited, Sorian still hadn't remembered. But the parchment, still tinted purple, was precisely the shade of a certain princess's eyes.

_________________

It was some time before Kjan and Eledhe were actually back inside the Keep, as they were especially careful to cover their tracks and make sure they couldn't be seen before accessing a hidden entrance that was some distance around the base of the mountain and in a completely different direction than they'd originally been going. When they finally did enter, though, Kjan had to admit that he'd never been more relieved to find himself in the claustrophobic stone corridors of the Keep.

After quite a bit of walking, they at last ran into the Phantom and Silvryn, the others ostensibly having gone off to complete some other task. To say that the Phantom looked tense would have been an understatement. Granted, Kjan had thirty-two years of experience reading the man's body language and thus tended to notice things no one else would - like the way the Phantom was currently holding his jaw - but he was fairly certain that anyone would have been able determine their leader's present mood.

"Three days," he said shortly, getting straight to business. "In that time, we must decide between unconditional surrender and complete annihilation. We're only getting the former option because the commander wants to avoid losing any more of his men needlessly. We tried to get longer to 'consider,' but he wouldn't go over three days. So whatever we're planning on doing, we need to do it quickly."

Three days. That was seventy-two hours. How many minutes in seventy-two hours? The Phantom was trying to multiply sixty by seventy-two before he caught himself with a severe mental smack. Soon seventy-two hours would turn to merely seventy-one. He evinced a terse smile. "That would require that we plan on doing something."

He ignored Eledhe's loud ahem, knowing that their next course of action was neither complicated nor cunning, only bleakly necessary. "We need to find whatever entrances they haven't discovered. Then everyone needs to get out." He pointedly did not let his gaze bend over to Silvryn.

Get out. Get out where? There was nowhere. The Keep was the last place, the last refuge from starvation or forced labour or the long list of oppressions the peasants of Kytana had endured. The Phantom was abruptly aware of the silence that stretched between the four of them. Ostensibly, the same thought had occurred.

How often had he asked - "Any ideas?"

_________________

In response to Jate’s question, Ash squinted at the ceiling as he walked. After a moment, he answered, “Around a thousand, give or take a few hundred. Most of those are refugees, families. Not very many are actual rebels. Kind of a shame - we could do with more fighters.”

Reaching the armory, he pushed open the heavy wooden door, revealing a room with disappointingly scarce shelves and racks. Practically all the weapons were gone, likely in use. “Well, you’ll have to make do with what you can find, I guess.” Ash said with an apologetic shrug.

There was prolonged silence as the foursome stared at each other, considering their options. Not that they had especially many. Those unable to fight obviously had to get out first either way, but what would they do after that? As Kjan saw it, they could either fight or surrender. Sure, the Phantom likely could produce some ingenious plan, but any plans they formed would still ultimately come down to one of those two options. Even running away just meant delaying the choice until later.

Silvryn, to be honest, was surprised that they had been granted even three days. It was far less time than they needed, but also far more than they had expected to have. Perhaps they would be able to at least prevent the needless sacrifice of innocent lives.


At length, Kjan cleared his throat. "So," he said slowly, his tone far calmer than he felt. "Do we still fight?"

"We don't surrender," returned the Phantom. "Kjan, if you could find Dante and Jate and Ash - tell them to gather everyone in Center Hall. As soon as the civilians are safely away..."

He left it hanging. Phantom Grey was never bereft of an improbable plan of action.

---

Just over an hour later, he watched from a side doorway as people trickled uneasily into the Keep's central meeting place. Mothers were clutching children close. Most of them wanted nothing more than to hide their faces in mama's skirt. Every man he saw had a grim expression he felt must be nearly identical to his own. The same teenage boy who had been guarding the entrance they'd used, the previous day, seated himself on one of the concentric rock benches that surrounded the middle area. Where the Phantom was going to have to tell them that the last safe place was no longer safe.

He shifted grimly, waiting for the remainder of the Keep's civilians to present themselves. It wasn't a prospect he looked forward to.

_________________

Kjan stood a few steps away from the Phantom, likewise surveying the growing crowd. They had promised these people security, assured them that it was worth packing up their few possessions and leaving all that they knew behind in favor of living in cramped quarters with other refugees somewhere in the mountains. And now they were going to not only break that promise, but offer no safe alternative?

He knew it couldn't be helped, but that made him feel no less guilty as he watched families crowd together in the meeting hall. Mothers attempted to soothe their children, fathers promised that nothing would harm their families. Youths either clutched makeshift weapons or helped corral the younger children, all the while trying and failing to keep their own fear from showing.

Not for the first time, Kjan found himself wondering where they would all go, even if they did get out. He had known, in theory, how many people the Keep held, but it seemed like far more when they were all trying to sit in the same room. Even as large as the meeting hall was, people were already standing in aisles and crowding around doorways, as all of the seats were filled.

"Kjan!"

He turned around to see Cerys approaching, her expression one of concern. Smiling thinly, he managed a brief wave in her direction before turning back toward the crowded room.

"What's happening?" Cerys asked as soon as she'd made her way over to them. "How did the negotiations go?"

"You're about to find out," Kjan replied absently as he attempted to make a rough estimate of how many were in the room. It seemed like most of the Keep had already assembeled, though he had no way of doing an exact count. "Good luck finding a seat."

"We need to start," Silvryn interjected abruptly, coming up behind them. "We are losing valuable time. Any absentees or late arrivals can be informed by others."