A Dog Among Princes

Chapter 3

Casca woke to a rustling noise. Embarrassed to have fallen asleep, she shot up. It was still dark, but the gray of dawn was slowly invading the sky. It sounded like someone was in the armory. It was probably just Guts grabbing equipment for his morning practice, but she figured she should check anyway. Out of all the things she thought she’d see in there she didn’t expect a little blond kid that looked uncannily like Guts. He even wore a scarf like guts did back when he was younger.

“What the hell?” The kid looked up and upon seeing Casca immediately threw a rock at her as hard as he could. In her grogginess Casca didn’t think to dodge in time and the stone caught her in the forehead. “What the hell!” The kid quickly looked around, picked up the biggest sword in his reach and tried to bolt. She grabbed him by the back of his tunic and lifted him off the ground. “Put the sword down, kid. These aren’t toys.”

“Let me go you bitch!” The kid flailed his arms and legs wildly but Casca held him at arm’s length.

“Not until I wake up the commander. We’ll see if you still have such a smart mouth when he’s done with AH!” The kid had realized he had a long piece of metal in his hands and whacked her with the flat of the blade. Casca dropped him in surprise.

“What’s with all the commotion?” Guts stood in the doorway. The kid ran straight into him and bounced off. Guts looked down at the kid “What the hell?” Then he got a better look and realized the kid was holding a sword. He kicked the end of the blade, tearing it out of the kid’s hand. “You oughta go for a shorter blade, kid. Too much leverage for you.” The kid started back pedaling and Casca grabbed a hold of him. Guts grabbed his other arm and the two frogmarched him to go see Griffith.

Griffith didn’t expect to be woken up to Guts and Casca dragging a kicking and screaming child into his tent, but he supposed he’d woken up to worse.

“We caught him trying to steal from the armory.” Casca let the kid go. “He got me with a rock when he was trying to escape.” The kid churlishly stared Griffith down. He knelt down and gave the child a fatherly smile.

“Do your parents know you’re here young man?” The blond mumbled something. “Could you please speak up for me?”

“My parents are dead!” That wasn’t unexpected. It was the case for most of the band after all.

“Is there anyone taking care of you?”

“My village has been pitching in to support me.” The kid shifted from foot to foot. “But I can’t take it. I don’t want their pity. I want to be a mercenary, to support myself. I’m sorry I stole from you but I need a sword to do that.”

“Is that right?” Griffith asked. Casca knew that look.

“You don’t need a sword, kid. A dagger maybe, or a sling, but not a sword.”

“Excellent. Thank you for volunteering, Guts”

“For what?”

“To take this young man on as your squire of course.” Guts pulled Griffith aside and lowered his voice.

“Griffith, he's just a kid.”

“So was Rickert when he joined. So were you.”

“I know that, but he shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have.”

“You also don’t occupy the same position in the world you once did. When we get to York you probably won’t be seeing much combat. You’ll be able to teach him how to fight and keep him out of trouble without any real danger to him.” Guts looked at the kid. He was picking his nose. He noticed Guts was staring and quickly removed his finger. Guts drew himself up to his full height.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Isidro.”

“I wake up everyday at dawn to start training, practice swordplay until mid morning, take a break at noon and then start up again in the evening. Can you handle that, Isidro?” The kid puffed out his chest.

“I can handle that no problem.” He announced proudly.

“And I better not hear you call Casca a bitch again. If you want to live with us you treat her with respect.” Isidro didn’t look like he was listening. His eyes had found the emblem on Guts’s cloak pin in the morning light.

“You guys are with the Band of the Hawk?”

“You’ve been speaking with its commander all morning.” Griffith smiled coyly. “I feel like I should be offended you didn’t recognize me.”

“Then the Hundred Man Slayer must be here!” Alarm bells went off in Guts’s head. Oh god, he didn’t kill this kid’s father did he? “He’s the reason I decided to become a mercenary. I want to be a man just like him.” Guts felt something inside him drop and shatter.

“Guts is everything alright?” Casca gently touched his arm. He brushed her hand away roughly. He didn’t want to be touched right now.

“I’m fine, just need to step outside is all.” He left the tent as fast as he could without looking like he was running.

“Did I say something wrong?” He looked to Griffith.

“No you’re fine, Isidro. Casca, can you show the young man around while I go speak to his new mentor?”

Guts felt his chest tighten and his breathing become more strained. This had happened to him in the past but it had been a while since the last time. It kept playing in his head, just like him, just like him. He was a broken mess of a man. Was this what his impact on the world had been? To inspire children to take up the sword like he’d been forced to? To make more like him? Guts hated the attention he received as a captain, he’d rather be a nameless faceless mercenary. Especially because of how people idolized him now. How they collected stories of his feats and assigned them to his name. It wasn’t anything to be proud of, what he did. It was just a reflection of his constant state of being, the weapon he’d been molded into, and what he was wasn’t anything he believed anyone should aspire to.

“I’ve been rude to you as of late. I apologize.” Griffith sat next to him. Guts tried to force his breathing back into a regular rhythm.

“You haven’t been rude,” Guts choked out. “You just were treating me different is all.” His speech was still constricted by the lack of air.

“I wasn’t treating you like yourself, that’s a great unkindness.” Griffith let his hand hover over Guts’s back. The larger man nodded in assent. Griffith put his hand on Guts’s shoulder pulling him closer. Guts closed his eyes and tried to breathe. “The boy really seems to look up to you. What about that made you upset?”

“When I started living as a mercenary, and even when I joined the Band of the Hawk, I never really gave much thought to my legacy or what I was working towards. I’m still not sure what I want either of those to be, but I know what I don’t want is for my legacy to be more kids that turn out as fucked up as I did.”

“Well you’ve already caught one early.”

“But will that make a difference?” Griffith ran one hand over Guts’s short hair.

“Once again, the place you occupy in the world has changed quite a bit. There’s more you can do as a king than you could as one man.” Guts opened his eyes.

“There’s a lot I’m going to need to know for that to work.” Guts stood up. “I don’t really know anything about politics or etiquette or any of the shit I’m supposed to. You were always way better at that than I was. So I’m asking you, will you teach me?” He looked at Griffith with greater resolve than he had ever seen. Rage, fear, admiration, all those Griffith was used. Resolve however was new. It wormed it's way into the corners of his mind and Griffith began to feel something he'd never felt for another man. There are some people who by nature are keys that set the world in motion. They are the true elite as dictated by the golden rule of the universe. He felt that he would follow Guts to the ends of the earth.

“I believe I already swore myself into your service, my liege,” Griffith said jokingly.

“Oh lay off you asshole,” Guts laughed.

“Ca- I mean Miss Casca, did I say something wrong earlier?” She’d shepherded Isidro around the camp introducing him to the other members of the band and the contingent from York, but he’d still remained sullen. She knelt down to his level.

“No you didn’t. That was just Guts being Guts.” Isidro didn’t seem convinced. “He’s just weirdly sensitive about some things. He was upset, but you couldn’t have known what you said would set him off. I don’t even understand why that set him off.”

“Does he not like the Raid Captain or something?” Yeah, she guessed Isidro could say that.

“Guts is the Raid Captain.” Isidro looked shocked. “Not what you expected?”

“I thought he’d be older.”

“Everyone tends to assume that about us. Griffith is a strong commander. He’s led groups of teenagers so effectively they could take down groups of grown men. As the band became more well known people just assumed we were all adults ourselves.”

Casca realized looking at Isidro, that he was probably about the same age as Guts when he struck out on his own as a mercenary. Ah that’s what probably did it. Especially with how much the kid looked like him. The same thing happened around the time General Julius and his son were assassinated. Casca never had any proof but she was reasonably sure it was Guts that carried it out. He had looked like he had been hollowed out when he walked into the mess hall that night. If she remembered correctly the general had been training his son as a knight. He’d probably seen the similarities there too. Shit, this whole thing was just getting more and more complicated.

Off in the distance she saw Griffith and Guts walking towards them. Gut’s posture was loose and relaxed. She guessed Griffith had pulled him out of whatever it was that came over him. They stopped in front of her and the kid. Guts cleared his throat for a bit until Griffith give him a discrete kick to the ankle.

“Hey kid, sorry for walking out on you there. Just a little stuffy in that tent was all.” It was pretty obvious to Casca and Griffith that Isidro didn’t buy it, but he wasn’t going to press the issue. “I’m about to start practice, what do you say I help you pick a blade that fits you a little better and we get started?” Casca shot Griffith a questioning look. Griffith gave her a covert thumbs up. Isidro let a little more hope invade his expression.

“So you’ll teach me to use a sword?” Guts tossed him a stick.

“We’ll see about that.”