Title: Indistinct
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Rating: PG
Length: 2,600 words
Content notes: Battle from a distance involving some reckless behaviour?
Author notes: Medieval!au - this fits about both sides of Reference. And was not what I was plannign to write. OOPS. Prompt: 'distinctions, fine or otherwise'.
Summary: The Earl of Eleru rode in too late for anything but the very end of the battle.

oOo

The Earl of Eleru rode in too late for anything but the very end of the battle, which he managed to observe from the brow of a hill most of two miles away. It had rained most of the day, and he was soaked through, splashed with mud where he had lead Griffin off the road more than once to evade patrols of the enemy, but now the clouds had lifted just enough to see across the field. The two lines had mingled into a melee worthy of any Tourney, but the Princess who led the Chizetan forces, marked out by her gold and scarlet arms, somehow rallied those knights left on horseback into a line which would tear apart the ragged foot-soldiers who made the majority of the Cephiran force.

Clef could not breathe, in that moment, watching them make ready and his own people failing to reform and stop them. He searched the mass of fighting for the Queen's standard, habit and instinct in one, but it was something else which caught his attention. Even from a distance, he could see the great bright-bay bulk of a horse which – he could have sworn he knew, his heart telling him that he did and his mind telling him it wasn’t possible. A small and half-armoured knight clung like a burr to his back, arm raised and sword flashing as they coaxed the horse up into the air, and he could see people reacting to that call and forming up about the bay. The archers set arrow to bow, and a deadly hail filled the air again as the Chizetan force advanced.

They were in time. They might be in time. There was a chance... and this would be the last test of resolve for both sides, he could see that from his distant perch. His own banner was gathering there – Evora was calling his people to rally behind the bay, and the Queen’s colours were there as well. Griffin shifted below him, as tension made his legs tighten about the tired mare’s sides, and he took a breath to still them both – and it caught, trapped in his throat, as he spotted the trap.

There was one group of Chizetan knights still held in reserve, to the side of the field, where a copse hid them from view of the Cephiran fighters – from where, he knew in an instant, they would sweep out and attack from the rear of the group being draw out of the mob to face Chizeta’s charge. There were only a dozen, perhaps, but that would be enough to split the focus of Cephiro’s forces and take them to pieces.

He was more than a mile too far to call any warning. Even had she been fresh, Griffin could not have spirited him across the distance in time to head them off; he could only wait and witness, heart aching in his chest.

Should Queen Emeraude fall, then it would be his duty to turn and flee from here, before any knew he watched – to follow the rumours and the traces which had failed him the last three months, and find the Prince before the enemy could. With Ferio, some form of resistance could, possibly, be constructed – with the Queen captive or killed, only her heir would be able to summon so much courage and loyalty from the people who had not answered the first call to arms.

So he waited, and he saw the last stand begin, the two lines clashing. Saw the second force start to move from behind the copse.

Saw, with a distinct clarity at odds with the lightheadedness come from not enough breath making it through his throat, when one lone rider spotted them. One, on a grey horse which he couldn’t possibly know – one who wheeled alone and charged across the field to singlehandedly take on the whole of that second group.

It was insanity. The rest of the Cephiran force faltered, too focused on what they were about to react so quickly, and most too deeply engaged to break away – but so startled was that second, small group of the enemy at this mad charge that they, too, faltered. And then the lone knight was in their midst, and fighting like something inspired by the gods, or by some demon. He gripped the reins so tight that Griffin danced beneath him again, but he couldn’t find voice to murmur reassurances, as he watched that whirling flash of silver – of horse and armour and glimmering sword – somehow, incredibly, holding their own. One Chizetan fell from their mount, then another – a third was spilled from their horse’s back as the grey horse kicked back and startled it into rearing away. But the grey was surrounded, now. It would not be long before the rider was brought down, no matter how fiercely they fought, not now that the shock of their arrival was wearing away.

But they had held place long enough there were others now reacting, breaking from the main fight in ones and twos, coming to the lone knight’s aid.

The fighting grew too dense for him to make out what was happening. Clef sat, incapable of moving, as the sun dipped in the sky and still the battle went on… and then there was one Chizetan flag moving away, retreating. Another. The enemy broke away in drips and drabs, scattering back across the river and into the trees, and the banners of Cephiro’s Queen still held the field.

He watched carefully, but the light was not fading, and he could not see if the grey horse was among those being ridden slowly back to the camp – nor the bright bay.

(He stopped himself from looking for the light chestnut coat of the third horse which could not be there.)

oOo

The camp was sprawling chaos even before the battle; in the aftermath, full of the wounded, the lost, and those of the enemy who had been taken hostage (and who were therefore generally both wounded and lost), it lost nearly every hint of the pattern which the various commanders had tried to impose on it before. The enemy had retreated, at least - fleeing back across the broad spill of the river, so they had been able to return to the camp of the night before, not needing to set it up elsewhere. The Queen's pavilion was plainly visible in the centre, marked by the banners flying over it and the guard outside, but beyond that there were people milling about to find something to eat, or waiting in groups to be treated, and 'whoever is in greatest need comes first' was the only order being observed.

At least it had not started raining again. But the clouds were clearing, now, which meant the night was going to be cold.

Clef rode the last weary path to the camp as it refilled with people and went looking for his own standard among the campfires and the pitched tents, finding it not too far removed from the Queen. His mount's head was hanging low, sides still marked with sweat from a hard journey, and his own legs shaking as he dropped too-heavily to the ground. Already one of the esquires was holding Griffin’s head, murmuring soft reassurances to her. "Walk her, please, and keep her warm; she has carried me further than I had any right to ask of her, today." Clef said, quietly, and the young man nodded with a gravity which had Clef trusting him, though he did not recognise him - not that that was so much a surprise, he did not recognise a great proportion of the people here under his banner. Most he would only meet once or twice, outside of war.

For a moment longer he rested against the mare's damp shoulder, the heat of her almost burning through her skin. But she looked up, when he raised one shaking hand to pat her neck, and gave a soft whuffling noise he fancied meant she was pleased with herself.

She had every right to be. He only hoped she would not pay for it.

"My Lord! We did not look to see you before tomorrow, at the earliest."

He turned to greet Evora, relief rattling through him that his second had come through the day alive - and, from all he could see, mostly unhurt. She was walking with a limp, but only a slight one, and there were no marks on her clothing nor did she seem to notice. A bad bruise, or a strain, he would guess. "I have news which would not wait - but I have a minute to hear how it went, first. I saw the end, but not close enough to see detail.” He did not dare to ask – he must have imagined it. There was more than one grey stallion in the country!

(If he could believe a little too readily in Umi flinging herself against a dozen knights, alone, then- that had no bearing. She could not be here.)

“I was too close in the heart of it to see clearly,” Evora said, slowly. He blinked at that, for he had seen his colours rally to that bay’s side before almost anyone else, and it was Evora who took his standard onto the field when he was not there. “But the Queen will wish to see you, and between herself, the Marshal, and the Lord Priest, they should be able to satisfy your curiosity well enough.”

“…Evora-“

“Go, and let me tend to your people.” She told him, with a faint, almost sly smile. “We have not come through so badly, and by the time you return I will have a reckoning for you. Your pavilion will be ready when you return, as well.”

He went, still unable to believe.

Until the moment he walked into the Queen’s pavilion, and Umi stood before him, incontrovertibly real.

oOo

He offered the Knights his hospitality again, even as the Queen took them into her service, and saw them swear their fealty in a kind of daze which did not clear until they were out of the tent and the night air hit his face again. People were staring, and whispering, as they walked by – at all three of the women who followed him, not merely the one by his side who had flung herself so recklessly at the enemy. Not that Hikaru had not done similar, and he had no doubt Fuu had been there too, rallying the stand against Chizeta.

“Did you see the battle?” Umi asked him, as he led the way to where his banner flew, the white of the fish (which should be silver, but banners were large and as often damaged as their bearers, in battle – no one with sense would waste silver thread on such a large and fragile thing) glimmering in the light of the scattered campfires.

Relief that they had survived, that they were there before him, had carried him to this point – relief and sheer bewilderment. But at her words, he felt again the rush of fear he had known watching that lone rider head to their doom, and his vision blurred over.

“If you mean,” he said, and his voice was somehow steady, “did I see you throw yourself at a small army, all by yourself-“ His sight cleared enough to see the small, satisfied smile which lurked on her face at those words.

“Oh, it was only a couple of knights, and someone had to hold them long enough. Quicksilver was swift enough to keep me from harm, all but a scratch or two.”

Clef led the way into the semi-privacy of his own tent, and finally felt he could turn and glare at her, distantly aware that Evora was welcoming the other two and leading them across to the chairs by the brazier. “There were more than a dozen knights!”

“Well, that’s as alike as makes no matter-“

“On the contrary, there is a very distinct difference!”

“They were going to break our line! Someone had to stop them, and I was best-placed to do so.” She told him, still sounding not the least repentant, and he flung his hands in the air.

“But alone! If you must charge into the midst of the enemy, at least take someone with you! If your friends were too busy, then you might have called to any knight close enough to hear!”

“They had other matters to mind.” She said, dismissively, and Clef growled.

“I have any number of knights and esquires who were on that field! You will call on them, please, before you ride into the heart of the enemy!”

There was a sharp, startled kind of silence between the walls of cloth, now. That had caught Umi’s attention as nothing else had, and the smile was gone from her face.

Well, and if it took offering her permission to suborn any of his retinue, then so be it.

“Please.” Clef continued, more quietly. “I was too far to help, and I knew it was you on the field – knew it was Hikaru who rallied the line, and you who split off from it. I can recognise my own horses at a distance, though I thought you could not possibly be here, and to see you surrounded – I am bound, as your host I am bound, and now your sponsor, and as your friend, to do what I can to keep you from avoidable recklessness! To see you cut down-“

He swallowed, and Umi’s eyes were wide now. She stepped forward, one hand on his arm again. “...Clef- I mean, my lord Chancellor- Eleru?”

At least that startled a laugh from him, if a small one, as he realised how far across the lines of courtesy his fear for her life had sent him. “Clef. If I'm going to be yelling at you, my title seems somewhat egregious. And if – you will agree that we are friends, in spite of my shouting?”

“Friends.” She agreed, voice soft. “We were before, and I would like to think we still are, for all that we three abandoned your hospitality – and stole your horses-“

“I had given them to you for your use, I did not stipulate any boundaries to that use.” He told her, an unwarranted relief making him feel exhausted, again – every mile he had come that day aching through him. “Just- please, Umi. I'm sure that any number of knights there at my bidding would welcome a commander willing to give them an excuse to launch into trouble. I will ask Evora to find a handful - and for Fuu and Hikaru, too, you should each of you have some followers, as you are all well enough trained in command to make good use of them, and you are now sworn to the Queen’s cause, so I feel justified in lending them. Promise me you will take at least someone with you, to watch your back, when you next decide to be reckless?”

“…I promise I will try to do so.” She said, light dancing in her eyes, and Clef rolled his eyes.

“I suppose that is the best I can hope for. Now – you had best change, before that mail rusts to you and refuses to come off.”

Evora had found a spare tent which would do for the three women, and dry clothing- Clef let himself be chased to his own bed, and fell into as hard a sleep as any who had been on the field that afternoon.

oOo