Consequences of the Maou\'s Heart

Chapter 21

The sight Murata was greeted to, upon awakening, was truly one to behold. He rubbed his eyes and located his glasses; just to be sure it wasn’t a trick of the predawn light. Apparently, Yuri’s tales of Wolfram’s wild sleeping habits had some truth to them. The down pillows that had begun the night tucked under blond curls had been tossed to opposing sides of the room. Blankets pooled and piled about the bed and floor in lumpy waves, not a one of them covering Wolfram at all. This really was a shame for the poor blankets, as had they stayed wrapped around the bed’s occupant they’d be touching quite the expanse of creamy white skin. The white cotton nightgown Wolfram had donned for bed rode up clear to his chest, exposing the scrap of blue fabric encasing the blond’s most private of areas. His arms crossed on the bed to provide a place for his head to rest as he lay on his stomach. He didn’t stay still for long, flopping on to his back roughly, arms splayed out haphazardly.

Murata stifled a chuckle at the display and wondered what exactly had woken him before the sun had even begun to truly rise. He was hardly known for being an early riser; usually it was closer to noon before he stirred if left undisturbed. A light tap at the door provided a possible answer. Cursing Shin Makoku’s lack of house slippers, Murata walked barefoot to the door.

The double black was mildly surprised at the person responsible for the knocking. Wolfram’s pale haired guard, Simon if the sage’s memory held, stood just outside the door looking a bit sheepish. For a moment Murata wondered if the men had over heard the incident the night before.

“Good morning Geika. I hope you slept well,” Simon whispered as formally as he could manage. Murata snorted mentally at the young man pointed not looking into the room, clearly having been exposed to Wolfram’s rather well… exposing sleeping habits. Of course being who he was, Murata couldn’t let this opportunity to tease a new victim pass by.

“I suppose I slept well enough. Surely not as roughly as our dear traveling companion,” a wicked gleam entered Murata’s eyes as he pointed back at the blond; intentionally drawing the soldier’s eyes to his captain’s sleeping form. And Wolfram oh so helpfully chose that moment to shift around again, this time tucking his legs underneath his body in a sort of fetal position that left his tail end up in the air.

“I…I…,” Simon stuttered helplessly at the sight, he’d drawn the short straw for waking his captain and the sage. It was with restraint born from years of exposure to Wolfram’s less than dainty sleeping habits that the soldier turned his eyes away from his commanding officer with only a faint blush on his cheeks, “Ah that’s good sir. Lord Bielefeld instructed us to wake him as well as yourself so that we could depart before the sun rose too high.”

“Did he now?” Murata allowed himself a glare at the still sleeping blond, “Well then, I suppose you’d better wake him.” There was no attempt to disguise Murata’s sadistic glee at Simon’s discomfort; clearly the man had hoped Murata would wake Wolfram instead.

“Ah yes sir,” a quick audible gulp followed his words before the soldier entered the room creeping ever closer to the sleeping man. He made every effort to keep his eyes on the head of the bed and not its occupant. Stopping just short of an arm’s length from the edge of the bed Simon shot a glance back at the smirking Sage. Of course, neither of them was expecting Wolfram to relieve them of waking him in a most disturbing manner.

“NO MORE FISH IN THE LATRINES!” Wolfram yelled decisively whilst leaping to his feet and pointing angrily at the wall as though it had offended him. The action startled Simon so much that he tripped over his own feet in his haste to be out of the blond’s threat range. Murata could only blink dumbfounded at the outrageous scene in front of him; Wolfram’s eyes weren’t even open for Shinou’s sake. Before anyone gathered enough wits to speak, Wolfram sat down roughly and yawned while finally opening his eyes to tiny slits.

“…Captain?” Simon started hesitantly as he stood.

“Mergal sem?” Wolfram mumbled unintelligibly, earning odd looks from the other men.

“You with us sleeping beauty?” The growl he received in response had Murata mentally reprising beauty to beast, especially when Wolfram turned his nose to the ceiling and sniffed like an animal catching a whiff of its prey. The creak of a floor board drew the attention of all in the room to the dark haired soldier now standing at the door, tray filled with breakfast foods in hand. Edward awkwardly entered the room, offering a quick bow to Murata out of respect. The mere presence of food in the room seemed to finally fully awaken the former prince. As Edward set the tray on a small table provided in the room, Simon stood and moved to stand near the door where Murata took the opportunity to question him.

“Is he always like that? Rough sleeping and all?” Murata mock whispered while pointing at Wolfram devouring a square pastry.

“Ah well,” Simon hesitated his desire to not reveal personal things about his captain warring with his need to answer his superiors, “That is, only when he doesn’t feel completely comfortable. Really it’s a good thing when we’re out patrolling; nobody stands a chance at taking him out while he’s sleeping.”

“So if he felt safe and secure around me he would have slept just fine,” Murata mumbled half to himself. He ignored Simon when the soldier started babbling about how Wolfram’s behavior wasn’t an insult or anything of the sort. Instead, Murata focused on the quandary the mornings events had risen in his thoughts. Would Yuri have had a better bed partner had he accepted Wolfram? Was Yuri in part responsible for his own torture? How did Yuri not jump Wolfram while the former prince was more than half naked and writhing in his bed? Shaking his head slightly, Murata focused back on the soldier he’d been speaking to.

“… so you see it’s a good thing the Captain doesn’t feel comfortable around you yet, because that way he will be ready to protect you at a moment’s notice.”

“Ah…” Murata could feel a bead of sweat slide down his temple at the young man’s babbling, “That’s quite informative. I hope the kitchen still has some food available, I dare not attempt to take any away from the wild animal currently eviscerating that scone,” Murata glanced pointedly at Wolfram’s display of an unusual lack of manners while eating.

The look of worry that passed over Simon’s face confirmed a suspicion that Murata had begun to have. Yuri’s maryoku was clearly not supplementing Wolfram’s own any more. As a result Wolfram’s energy was being depleted more quickly at it attempted to mirror the healing Yuri’s produced. Wolfram’s increased appetite was clear evidence of his maryoku fatigue.

“I’m sure there is still plenty of food Geika, would you like me to escort you down?” Murata had to smother a snicker at the soldier’s attempt at being gentlemanly. It was obvious the man hadn’t grown up doing such things, but most likely learned to do so under Wolfram’s command.

“You know that sounds like a fine idea. We’ll leave… Edward was it?” he paused to receive an affirmative nod from the man in question; “We’ll leave Edward here to tend to the sleepy beast.” In short order, Murata and Simon left the room in search of food leaving a mildly concerned Edward staring at his voracious captain.

“What?” Wolfram stated shortly after a few moments of being watched. He knew he was being rude but the idea of stopping eating fell somewhere between preposterous and impossible. A raised eyebrow and a gesture at the rapidly emptying tray was the response he received. “I know, I know,” Wolfram grumbled, hardly unaware of the reason behind his appetite, “We’ll need to pick up some more provisions before we leave; there isn’t a village for several days the way we’re going. Might as well eat while I still can.”

Edward nodded solemnly; well aware that once Wolfram’s body realized that it couldn’t replenish maryoku quickly enough it would begin to focus on conserving energy rather than creating it. His appetite would dwindle as his body worked to keep his heart pumping and lungs filling with air, ignoring the digestion of food and instead feeding off the fat and muscle that made up Wolfram’s body. It wasn’t a pretty picture, Mausetot poisoning killed by making the body destroy itself while attempting to expel or fight the poison. Not wanting to watch his captain anymore at the moment, Edward glanced about the room. His eyes quickly lit upon the washbasin. He and Simon had overheard some of the events from the night before, but had dismissed it as their captain’s temper getting out of control again. The obviously blood stained towel setting atop the bent metal wash pan clued him into more of what must have happened. Blood couldn’t be a good sign but he knew better than to make any attempts at questioning Wolfram about it.

“Stop,” Wolfram sighed heavily while finally setting aside his meal, “Quit thinking about it. We both know what’s going to happen and there’s no use grousing over the particulars,” Edward turned to him looking contrite, “Now get out so I can get dressed…unless you’re looking for a free show?” Wolfram didn’t usually resort to teasing his men in such a manner but it did get the man out of the room in quite a hurry.

Now alone, Wolfram finally let a flush come over his face that he’d been trying to keep in check. It was bad enough that his men and his… former fiancé knew about he sleeping habits, but now the ever teasing Geika knew as well. He felt a wave of embarrassment at the thought of Murata bringing it up in front of the castle residents. The feeling was cut short when he remembered that even if the Sage brought it up to them, Wolfram would be past caring. Before his mind could sink in the depths of pondering existence after death, Wolfram shook his head and climbed out of bed to ready for the day.

Downstairs, Murata was nibbling on some local fruit while flirting lightly with the inn keeper’s niece who was doling out food to the inn residents and townspeople alike. Having already finished eating, Simon was alternately watching the stairs for the rest of their party and grinning at a couple of youngsters mock dueling outside the inn’s window. Edward rushing down the stairs brought the attention of both men, but only Simon recognized the pinched look on his brunette comrade. It was clear to him that Wolfram had resorted to some light teasing to get him out of the room. It was an all too familiar tactic that the green haired man had been on the receiving end of more than once.

“Why hello again Eddy,” Murata called in an amused tone. The only response was rolled eyes and a near mocking bow. “And here I thought Lord Bielefeld would have better taught you how to greet your so called superiors,” the men traded looks over Murata’s shoulder, “Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you speak.”

“Ah well that would be because he doesn’t,” Simon answered somewhat surprised that the Sage didn’t know already.

“Doesn’t?” Murata paused for a moment, “Are we talking vow of silence or inability?”

“Ah the second Geika.”

“Hum that’s odd I thought all of Wolfram’s men were skilled in maryoku manipulation, it’s rather difficult to do so with out vocally calling on the elements.”

“Difficult but not impossible,” Simon paused and looked at Edward for permission to tell more about the brunette’s situation, he nodded in response, “After he lost his voice the Captain taught him how to call on his element without words.”

“Hmm you must have had quite the natural talent,” Murata commented to Edward. The man blushed, embarrassed at the attention.

“Hn,” a snort echoed from the stairs and they turned to see Wolfram descending the last step dressed in his uniform minus the jacket which he had draped across one shoulder. “Hardly, but he’s almost as stubborn as I am so he got it eventually, pretty good at it even.” Murata could tell that the insult hadn’t even fazed Edward but the man was practically glowing from the small praise.

“Hum one more oddity about your men Bielefeld,” Murata smirked lightly, “You know when I first got here a certain Maou insisted that all of your men were blond, thought clearly that’s not true.” A wry grin crossed Wolfram’s face and a visible shudder passed over his men.

“They were for a few months, somehow my unit got volunteered to help Anissina test … hum what was the name of that …thing.” Wolfram paused with a hand thoughtfully on his chin.

“Instant-Sword-Shiny-kun,” Simon added.

“Right, the smoke from the damn thing exploding turned all their hair blond, it was… quite the sight. Of course some how Anissina was out of the blast range.”

“Ah ha perhaps we should head out sir?” Simon asked clearly ready to change the subject.

Mmm you’re right finish up and we’ll get going,” Wolfram shook out his coat before putting it on.

True to his word they rode at a rapid rate for the rest of the day, only stopping once the lack light on unfamiliar terrain made going on more dangerous that desirable. They camped out that night and Wolfram and his men packed away their uniforms once they rose. After the first two days Wolfram turned over control of the pace to Murata, needed less to say they slowed to a much more sedate speed. Staying at inns when they were on the way and sleeping under the sky, several nights and days passed in a blur as they traversed the Double Black Trail.

Finally, after a few weeks they had to stop in one of the villages near Shin Makoku’s boarders to replenish their most basic supplies. The warning the shop keeper gave them filled three out of four of them with boiling anger, and filled the other with curiosity.

“You nice boys be careful there have been some raiders in the area, such a shame I once thought that man was a hero.”

“I’m sorry ma’am what are you talking about, who was a hero?” Murata asked.

“Those horrible men wear the uniform and bear the seal of the Lion of Lutenberg.”

*****

A cool breeze blew in from a purposefully left open window in Covenant Castle’s infirmary. The area’s only current occupant shivered from the breeze and a nervous feeling he’d had since he had seen the appointment Gunter had added to his date book. Yuri sat warily on the edge of one of the beds, dressed only in a thin robe that Gisela had left out for him. Somehow the Maou’s primary adviser had gotten it in mind that a physical exam was in dire need.

Really Yuri couldn’t figure out why Gunter had seemed so concerned, he felt fine, great even. Despite the weirdness of not being assaulted in the night, he had finally gotten a full night’s sleep. He was sure that the sleep must have well needed because all day the Maou felt like a kid again, unable to sit still and concentrate he was so full of energy. Part of him wonder if it was his new found freedom, but he quickly shoved that idea down as it just didn’t feel right.

“Ah good Heika, you followed my directions,” Gisela swept into the room without so much as a knock or warning, leaving Yuri unusually glad he was quick in changing out of his normal clothes.

“Ha yeah. Um, was it really necessary for me to practically get … naked for this?” Yuri started to backpedal when he noticed Gisela’s annoyed look, “I mean I’m sure you know best, but ah aren’t you going to use Maryoku to determine everything?”

“Well under normal circumstances yes, but Lord Christ insisted that I attempt to follow Earth traditions as well as Mazoku in this examination,” truthfully Gunter had suggested no such thing out right but the healer wasn’t against a little lie every now and again. “Luckily Lord Weller was thoughtful enough to bring me several medical texts back from your world on one of his visits. I’ve been translating them with the help of one of Lady Anissina’s inventions,” she couldn’t help but enjoy the look of panic that flashed over the Maou’s face.

“Ah well,” it was clear Yuri wanted to make some sort of protest but the thought of angering two of the most powerful women in Shin Makoku filled him with fear, “Ok I guess do what you need to.” Yuri watched anxiously as Gisela moved deftly around the room, gathering a few bits of equipment and what looked like an English medical text with sheets of parchment between nearly every page.

“Mmm it seems the first thing is to figure out your height and weight. Well the only scale in the castle is down in the kitchen,” Yuri panicked at the idea of going down there in practically nothing, “But there’s no reason to bother the chefs if you know your own weight?”

“Oh I do! I weight 64 kilograms.” Yuri resisted the urge to raise his hand like a school boy.

“Kilograms? Humm…” Gisela buried her nose in the book while frowning slightly, “There’s no mention of these kilograms, only pounds.”

“Oh you must have one of those weird American books, they don’t use normal measurement. Um let me think,” Yuri used every bit of memory he could trying to remember the conversion in order to save one shred of his dignity, “That should be the same as 142 pounds.”

“Good, now height. Hop up for me and stand against that wall.” Gisela pointed at one of the walls uncovered by any tapestry.

“Like this?” Yuri stated, back to the wall.

“That will do,” she counted the bricks behind him, “Well you’re 16 and a half bricks tall and by my calculations that makes you,” she glanced in her book again, “4 feet 11inches tall.”

“WHAT! There’s no way I was 5’6” in high school! People don’t just shrink! How did you get that number?!”

“Well I took a survey of the average foot length of those in the castle at the time and used the average as the measurement of a foot, then divided it by 12 since the book said there are 12 inches in a foot. After that it was simply a matter of seeing how many inches each brick is tall and then I’ve got a handy height taking spot,” Yuri blinked at her somewhat stupidly.

“Ah,” he weighed the danger of telling her that her calculations were incorrect now or not telling her and hoping she never found out, “Ah well… I guess things sure are different here in Shin Makoku.” Gisela smiled and mentally thanked Murata for pointing out the error in her calculations earlier that year, now she could enjoy the full confusion of the Maou without any of her own. Gisela ran a few more tests that Yuri was mostly familiar, even if she did add her own special techniques to them, making notes in a large journal type book as she went along.

“Hum lets see,” she looked back at the book, “Next up a …mammogram.” She looked on mildly puzzled as Yuri proceeded to choke on his own tongue and turn an odd shade of red from the bottom of his feet to the tips of his ears.

“W…w…w…what?” Yuri whispered hoarsely.

“The book says it’s standard procedure for royals during these kind of examinations.”

“Oh god let me see that book,” Yuri pleaded reaching for the book desperately. Gisela complied with only a moment’s pause. She watched as Yuri flipped through the pages, glancing between the printed text and her own hand written translations. English had never been the Maou’s strong suit while he was in school and now trying to switch between the two different types of written words and the Japanese he still tended to think in when he got nervous was giving him a headache. Finally, he waved Gisela over to look at a word in the text.

“Ok what does this one usually translate as?” he pointed at the word.

“Hmm that is ‘Royal’.” Yuri flipped to a different section of the book and pointed to a different word.

“And this one?”

“Oh that one means ‘Commoner’.” Yuri smacked himself in the forehead unsure if he should laugh or cry. “Is there something wrong Hieka?”

“Well ah… you said Anissina made the translating device?”

“Yes.”

“Well um that first word I showed you is ‘Woman’ and the second is ‘Man’.”

“You don’t say, well I guess there are still a few bugs that need to be worked out.” Yuri felt a sense of relief as Gisela flipped back to the section dealing with men’s health. “Hum let’s see then we need to perform a prostate exam.” All color drained from Yuri’s face. Still reading from the book she continued, “It looks like it would be best if you turned around and braced your hands on the table.” A pitiful whimper escaped Yuri’s mouth as the room spun dangerously. Seconds before the Maou’s feinted, he could have sworn someone was whispering the word ‘wimp’ in his head.

*****

AN: Hah pushed through my first real case of writers block for this one. Note to self: muse likes being sadistic.