Two Quiet Crossings

[StaolDerg]

The boy grinned back. "I'll hold you to your word." As they crested the bluff, the Crown motioned at a small hut dug into the side of a hill, mostly shielded by the forest around it. 

"That's the safehouse. There's a small pipe that lets it vent out the smoke into an old mineshaft nearby. Otherwise it's just an abandoned house. Come on."

The Crown started hurrying down the decline, motioning for the agent follow.

Inside, the house looked empty. The cold bled inside and the furniture was more or less deserted and broken. The remains of the carefully laid tiles upon the floor were a cracked mess, then entire building seemingly dead and freezing. The Crown ignored it, moving to the remains of a cooking pit and opening a concealed hatch. He waved for Matthew to hop in.

[callmedelta]

Matthew gazed down into the hole, and, not seeing any light, dropped down into the hole anyway, landing with a dull thud. It wasn't pin drop quiet, but the sound couldn't be avoided.

[StaolDerg]

The Crown followed behind, shutting the hatch as he clung to a brick jutting out from the wall of the hole, dropping down beside the agent. He felt about in the darkness until he felt a handle, yanking open a concealed door where light glowed from. A noticeable warmth emanated from light source, the Crown directing Matthew to enter before him as he eased the door shut. 

Inside, a number of bunks dug into the walls had resting occupants, the now-visible candlelight illuminating bandages and splints. A number of antiquated rifles lay against a simple table, where the candle burned in a tin holder. A small stove in the corner had a fire burning within, a soft bubbling of water audible from a pair of pots resting upon it.

The boy relaxed as he secured the door, dumbing his satchel on the table as hurried past Matthew, returning with a mug for both of them. Inside steamed dark tea, rather strong by the smell. The boy pulled a stool from under the table for them both, trying not to rouse the others that were resting.

"Sorry about the mess," the Crown whispered, trying to make the piled rifles look neater. "Haven't had the best year."

[callmedelta]

"Don't worry about it," Matthew softly chuckled, "I hardly keep my own home straight myself. Considering your circumstances, I'm surprised this place isn't dirtier." The Agent took the cup, before setting it down on the table, too hot for his taste. Matthew took a look at the rifles while he waited for the tea to cool, and sure enough, they were just as old as they looked. The rifles were the same pre-Staol War era equipment the Franch army used, though the GA had gave the Elenrians their last shipment of arms three years ago, in a pretty big operation that Matthew himself was involved in. That meant these rifles were either Franch, plausible considering the GA's contact with the group, making the rifles perhaps more worn than previously thought, or the Elenrians got the rifles from somewhere else, a thought which Matthew found a bit troubling. If Franerre weren't the only ones arming the Elenrians, who else were? Matthew filed the thought away for later. Content with his analysis of the rifles for now, Matthew near silently walked back to the table where his now cooled tea sat, which Matthew promptly took a sip of. The tea was as strong as it smelled, and the Agent was glad he took just a small sip. 

[StaolDerg]

The boy watched him look over the guns, laughing quietly as he returned. "Yeah, our guns are sticks with a drilled hole," he commented, sipping from his own cup. "Don't get equipment shipments too often these days anymore, what with the Territorials getting more aggressive. We've had to, ah... improvise." He nodded at the cloth strips binding several of the rifles' furniture together, along with small bags stuffed full of what were probably bullets, guessing by the shape of their contents within. 

The Crown excused himself to retrieve the aforementioned deer meat, leaving Matthew by himself for a few minutes as he exited down a narrow corridor half-hidden by a worn flag of what was likely some old state before the Kumo arrival.

[callmedelta]

'Well, I suppose there's the answer to my question,' Matthew thought, 'Still, it's sad to see them in such a sorry state. No use dwelling on it now, however.' Matthew then began to unpack his bag, taking great care to ensure the radio and FRGAC-6 were undamaged. The radio looked okay, but Matthew didn't turn it on yet for fear of waking the sleeping Elenrians up. To test the camera, Matthew held the camera up and took a picture of the guns, the flash of the C-6 making a louder noise than expected. It hadn't made that much noise when he'd tested it in the equipment back in the GA barracks, but in the quiet room it sounded like, well, a loud camera flash. Matthew would have to see about someone getting a darkroom set up here in the safe house to make sure the film developed alright. It had better, because the FRGAC-6 had cost the Gendarmerie hundreds of Lira.

[StaolDerg]

The Elenrians sleeping stirred with irritation, those with blankets yanking them higher and over their heads. The young Crown hadn't returned yet, but the other members seemed disinterested, due mostly them facing away from the light and their injuries preventing them from getting up. A few started to snore again, slipping back beneath a veil of warm dreamless sleep.

The flag shifted a half-minute later, the boy emerging with a small paper bag that was promptly emptied into the pot, the boy stirring shortly before serving Matthew a hot porridge of rice and tiny meat chunks with some bits of pickled vegetables mixed in. 

"It's not grand hotel food," the boy apologized. "But it's better than being the poor guys outside who starve to let their children eat."

[callmedelta]

"Don't worry about it," Matthew said, taking the bowl in his hands, "Considering Elenria's situation, I'm glad you're able to feed another mouth." Matthew lifted a spoonful of the porridge to his lips and ate. "You know, this is still better than my cooking," Matthew chuckled.

[StaolDerg]

The boy laughed quietly, the candlelight catching the way his skin looked stretched over his bones. "Glad you like it. But I'll warn you now that we're trying to make it last, so this is our night meal. Try not to burn too much energy." 

He glanced at the other Elenrians sleeping, asking Matthew curiously, "What are you here for, anyway? The Radio Man just told me to bring you to the safehouse and then cut out."

He realized how snobby he sounded, quickly adding, "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

[callmedelta]

"Headquarters has devised a new 'plan' to help free Elenria, if you can call it that," Matthew scoffed, "Sending you arms is too much action for command, might make Kumosenkan take direct action against Franerre. 'Course, Kumo's shut down the border anyway, but that's beside the point. Instead of sending you arms, I got send with this." Matthew retrieved the camera from his bag, carefully setting it down on the table. "The FRGAC-6, the finest camera Lira's can buy."

[StaolDerg]

The boy gave it a frown, trying to understand what the thinking behind it was. "How exactly is that supposed to help us? Take pictures of starving people? Have that published to the press? Won't that just tell Kumosenkan that you've been snooping about here anyway?"

He scooped up the rest of his meal, practically licking his bowl clean before making a quick run to the corner of the room to rinse it with a pump dug into the wall. 

[callmedelta]

While the Crown was away, Matthew made a bit more headway on his own meal. When the boy came back, Matthew continued. "Close, but not quite. What Kumosenkan's doing is horrible, but as long as you are turning to armed insurrection, Kumosenkan can keep it up pretending they are the victim in all this," Matthew clarified, "What command wants to do is make Elenria look like the victim it is in all of this mess. More specifically, they want a peaceful protest started. When the territorials inevitably put it down, then we can say that you tried the peaceful route, but it didn't go anywhere. The only choice for you, then, is what you're doing now. And command seems to believe that, with any luck, the pictures I take can singlehandedly free Elenria, but that's a load of bull."

[StaolDerg]

The boy shook his head in disbelief. "A protest? There's no shortage of that in the cities, with ENCOR and all, but good luck finding one that doesn't just descend into a street brawl- but I suppose you already know that." 

He was quiet for a while, placing his head on a hand as he thought over what the agent was saying. He was no ENCOR officer- hell, his own cell was affiliated with the royalists more.

"How are you even supposed to rile up a protest anyways? We don't- oh, I get it."

He rummaged about the table, digging out a small map of the local area. It looked like it had been torn off a wall at some point, the corners shredded somewhat. Pencil marks annotated locations of interest, the Crown pointing to a small dot towards the edge of the drawn boundary. 

"We're here at the moment. I bet command wants me to drag you to find the ENCOR house a good four kilometers up northeast. They don't exactly hate us royalists, but we're not exactly friends either to the point where I'm willing to go inside. I'm going to bring you to their safeouse and let them take over from there."

[callmedelta]

"Smart boy," Matthew said, "The GA would have sent me to meet with ENCOR first, but your safehouse was closer, and we have more ties to the Royalists then ENCOR. I won't be heading up there tonight, though, it's too late for that, and I'm getting tired." Matthew accentuated his point with a yawn. "Give me a few hours, though, and I'll be good to go. Any bunk where I can sleep?"

[StaolDerg]

The Crown chuckled. "Sure thing. Got one in the back, you'll have to curl up though. It's a bit cramped. I'll give you my blanket if it isn't warm enough after I light the other stove. I'm sure the ENCOR have got better places to sleep than our little holes in the dirt. Come on."

He led the Franch agent behind the flag, edging up his Crown as he showed him past a pair of doors and into what appeared to be a spare barracks. A bot-bellied stove sat in the corner, unlit. The Crown pointed to a relatively small sleeping spot dug into the wall out of masonry, with a thin mat as a mattress. A straw-stuffed bag served as a pillow, the mat itself woven out of dried reeds.

As he let the agent make himself comfortable, the boy wrestled with the stove, bring back a burning twig from the other to light the now-stocked stove. A roaring fire was soon burning brightly, the boy leaving it so as he shut the grated door, setting the poker aside.