Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 11]

My own orders had me moving in the opposite direction. Apparently, some of the recently homeless had banded together to try and take food from one of the storage sites. Not sure why I was called to help but I ran in the direction, meeting up with Pyrrha en route.

"Food stores?" she asked, jogging alongside me. I nodded back. "Me too. Don't they realise we're in a siege?"

"They've lost their own food and homes." I said. "They must be afraid they'll starve."

"We wouldn't let them. Poverty and disease in the city would be the last thing we need right now. Can't they understand that?"

Wasn't it more that she couldn't understand them? Expecting normal folk to understand the nuances of a siege was too much. We weren't taught that. I wondered if that was why I'd been ordered to deal with it; because I might be able to understand and talk sense into them.

We sprinted down the street and came out onto a crossroad. Remembering the direction wasn't necessary. A large mob of people waving torches and assembled craft tools were shouting to the south. About one hundred strong, the mob weren't quite at the pitchfork waving stage, but only because they weren't farmers. Hammers, brooms and lone stick were the order of the day. On the other side of them, a nervous collection of guards stood before a food silo. Only six in number, they were almost certainly low-level Soldiers set to defend what was an important, but expected to be unchallenged, location. I'd put them level twenty to twenty-five at best. Most of the Labour Caste were probably around level fourteen to sixteen.

If the mob moved on them, they'd sweep the soldiers away.

"Around," I hissed, catching Pyrrha's arm and dragging her off the road. "We approach from their back and we'll scare them forward, right into the guards."

Pyrrha nodded and ran ahead, ducking through a thin alley between two buildings. It led out onto the street perpendicular to the food store, allowing us to run back down and reinforce the beleaguered guards from the side. The crowd hesitated at our arrival, but only for a second. There was just the two of us, and while we could easily force all these people back, they didn't know that. We must have looked young to them.

"Silence!" I yelled, and predictably earned nothing more than louder shouting and threats. Had I been a Noble, or even a real Knight, my high Charisma would have probably shut them up in an instant. I tried to raise my voice over it. "Let us talk! Shouting and waving tools does no one any good. We are not your enemies!"

That seemed to work. Some of the people stopped shouting; not all – a mob was only as smart as its dumbest member – but a good half of them quietened down a little, though they didn't drop their weapons or move away.

"We need food!" someone yelled. They weren't particularly loud but the roar of agreement and the chants of "Food! Food! Food!" worked to fill in the gaps. The chant was taken up quickly, soon eclipsing anything else.

I waved my hands to try and win a chance to speak.

"They're not listening," Pyrrha said.

"Give me a chance at least!" I turned back to the crowd. "You will have food! No one is trying to make you starve. Your homes may have been lost tonight but we are handing out food every morning. No one in Vale will starve."

"We ain't got none!" a woman shrieked. "Our pantries burned down!"

The refugees and tribespeople from Vacuo didn't even have pantries or food stores, and they weren't forming mobs threatening to burn the place down. I didn't bother pointing that out for obvious reasons. "You will be given food tomorrow!" I said instead. "Morning is only five or six hours away. There's no need to resort to violence."

"Easy for you to say! You're a Hero! I bet you eat food constantly!"

"I'm Labour Caste!" I cried out.

"Greedy hero!"

"Caste traitor!"

"King's dog!"

"Food! Food! Food!"

"Rahh! Rahh! Rahh!"

Shit. They were really going to do it – working themselves up into a frenzy and clashing impromptu weapons together. I looked back, all too aware that the food store had a wooden roof and door. The food inside would be stored in barrels, crates and sacks as well, all flammable. One misplaced torch and the whole thing could go up, starving so many more people.

Even if Pyrrha and I could defeat them all, there was no guarantee someone wouldn't slip through. Beside me, Pyrrha readied herself for combat, shield held before her.

Pain blossomed as something struck my face. I staggered back – complete silence falling over the scene as I almost fell. A hand came up, touching my cheek. Blood. Not much, but a small smear across my skin.

A rock sat on the floor before me.

The mob tensed. There was no telling who threw it, but I saw in an instant that they were prepared for violence and wouldn't give the thrower up. Anger burned through me, fed by the pain I felt but also from how quickly the people my friends were risking their lives to protect could turn on us. And all because they refused to believe we'd provide them food in the morning. Anger, bitter and afraid, they lashed out at the only people they could. The Grimm were out of their reach.

"Open the stores," I snapped. "Give them food."

"What?" Pyrrha stared at me. "Jaune, we can force them back. They can't break through us."

"And risk the whole place burning down? I'm not worried about us, Pyrrha. I'm worried about these guards. About the food and the people it'll keep alive in the coming days." I raised my voice, speaking both to the crowd and the soldiers. "Give them enough for a small meal each but no more. If a single one of them tries to take more or force the issue." I drew my sword with a rasp. "Cut them down."

The threat, bluff or not, did its job. The soldiers grumbled but opened the wooden door, ferrying out supplies which they placed in front of me. I called up people two at a time, letting them take enough for themselves and no more. They glared at me, frustrated at even that, but I'd given them what they wanted, and they couldn't complain.

Importantly, I had Pyrrha filter them off to the left and right, dispersing the size of the mob with each new person that came forward. No one argued, perhaps knowing that if they walked back through the hungry mob with food in hand, they'd only have it taken from them. As the size of the crowd dwindled, so did their threat.

We could stop feeding them here, but it might feed their anger. Better to cut this off at the source. I kept the food coming until the last of them were walking away, cheering their so-called victory over us and snacking on fruit and veg. The guards sealed the storehouse and stood before it glumly. I doubted they were much pleased.

"We'll ask for more guards for you tomorrow," I said, earning a few tired but grateful nods. "If anyone blames you for giving food out, tell them I ordered it."

"Aye, sir." The apparent leader sighed. "Not much to do, was there? Better this than losing everything."

"The problem is whether this will inspire them to try again," Pyrrha said. "It's worked for them once so they may come by the next time they're hungry. Not to mention everyone who sees them parading their ill-gotten gains through the city. I'll be surprised if they make it back to the camps without being mugged."

"Do you think I was wrong to let them have it?"

"I don't know." Pyrrha offered me a tired smile of her own, sheathing her sword and looping her shield onto her back. "If it were because you felt sorry for them I'd say yes, but you made the call out of fear the storehouse would be torched. If it had been, we'd have lost a hundred times as much."

I didn't like letting them get away with it either. It felt like I was rewarding bad behaviour.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 11]