Rakuin no Monshou - Book 5: Chapter 3: Helio

Part 1

While on the march, Orba heard various rumours about Helio. Unlike when he was Crown Prince, Orba didn’t actively seek out information but the soldiers’ conversation spontaneously reached his ears.

King Elargon of Helio had led reinforcements to Eimen in the north but had died in battle a month ago.

Then, as soon as that information reached them, the senior vassals had unexpectedly mobilised their soldiers. To avenge their king and bravely confront Garda’s army – was not the reason. They arrested those who were of royal lineage and rose in revolt, attempting to become king themselves. Prostrate with grief at the death of his son, Hardross had been negligent and was captured from the very first.

Without waiting for the foreign enemy to arrive, Helio’s royal court was bathed in blood. Those who opposed the rebellion, those who followed the spirit of the age and took part in the rebellion – the chief vassals were torn apart by strife and many talented people were lost.

Then amidst this upheaval, Elargon’s orphan, Rogier, disappeared. Rogier was not Queen Marilène’s child as she had not been able to produce one, but was a child born to the king and his concubine Teeta. He was nine years old.

When the foolish, gruesome struggle came to an end, the one who had won sovereignty over Helio was a man named Jallah. He had held the position of Deputy Director of Financial Affairs, but he was a man who left such a weak impression that upon hearing his name, the populace couldn’t immediately call his face to mind.

Jallah had been on the side of the uprising but when the former chief vassal who led the rebellion had been about to finally grasp the throne, he had suddenly betrayed him and taken his head. After the leading figures came crashing down, Jallah had reaped the benefits with almost no effort on his part.

“Marilène seems to be the one pulling the strings in the background.”

The soldiers gossiped. Not only the affair with Jallah but even the rebellion itself might be part of a strategy that Marilène had drawn up. And then Marilène, who should have been in mourning for her husband, readily chose to become the wife of a rebel who had betrayed Helio’s royal family.

“That woman married into it from Cherik. The king of Cherik is Marilène’s older brother. She deliberately placed on the throne a man like Jallah that she can manipulate like a puppet.”

Furthermore, it was even rumoured that Marilène might have assassinated Elargon’s orphan son Rogier as well as the child’s mother, the concubine Teeta whose whereabouts were also unknown.

And so they speculated about the dark connection between Marilène and her homeland but however, now that danger was closing in on Helio, no reinforcements had been sent from Cherik. There were various theories but, “It’s because of Greygun,” was the prevailing opinion.

He had been the commander of Cherik’s mercenary force but had incurred King Yamka II’s displeasure and had been driven out of the city-state. Jallah had then hired the man at vast expense. It was said that because of that, the enraged Yamka had suspended reinforcements to Helio.

A succession of strategies and betrayals, huh?

Even while believing that this had nothing to do with him since he had chosen to become a mercenary, Orba couldn’t help thinking about it as he passed through the gate and observed the faces of the people who were lining the streets.

The victims were always the powerless populace. A boy was gazing towards Orba as he marched by. His thin body was clad in shabby and somewhat dirty clothes. But there was hope and yearning in his eyes as he watched the soldiers. Orba quickly turned his eyes away. He was exactly like he himself had once been.

Compared to Taúlia, Helio was surprisingly dusty. The roads were not maintained and plain stone houses were lined up on either side of the streets. Stalls and food carts stood out on the street corners.

Orba, Shique and Gilliam were walking along at the time just before sunset.

They were people who had come in reinforcement to another province. Regular soldiers of course but also mercenaries had a tight military discipline imposed upon them. They weren’t even allowed to drink, since it might cause a diplomatic incident if the people or military forces of another country provoked a quarrel.

However, the commanding officer of the platoon the three of them had been incorporated into was a half-hearted man. The mercenary troop had been divided up and although Orba and the others were assigned an unoccupied private house as their quarters, their platoon leader hadn’t given them any strict warnings.

“I’ll do the roll call before going to bed. Be back before then,” was all he had told them. After which, feeling restless, he had been the first to head out.

“But this town sure has nothing.”

“Tsk. Listen, Gilliam. Since we attract attention as Mephians, be careful what you say.”

Gilliam’s bad mood was because although, like the platoon leader, he had been quick to go out, he had been refused entry into a back alley brothel. The store owner had given some plausible excuse or another but, in short, he didn’t want to accept a customer from Mephius.

If a rumour sprang up that They slept with Mephians in that brothel, Zerdian guests might stop coming.

So when the openly furious Gilliam had returned, Shique had invited him to eat dinner with Orba and him.

As they had no particular destination in mind, they strolled aimlessly along the streets. These were overflowing with various races of people, Zerdians of course, but also the many mercenaries who had originally been employed by this country.

Exactly as Gilliam had commented critically, there was “nothing” flashy that caught the eye. Although other countries insultingly called Mephius plain and solid, it obviously still looked far more colourful than a tiny city-state.

“Above all, there was entertainment. Entertainment in murdering people.” Gilliam said with some self-mockery as he looked back on his days as a gladiator.

For his part, Orba barely opened his mouth and simply gazed apathetically at his surroundings, showing no particular interest in anything.

Good grief. Leading is a terrible burden, thought Shique, but he didn’t hate taking on that role. After walking aimlessly for about an hour, they entered a shop.

“Oh?”

The reason that Shique called out was that they suddenly caught sight of Talcott and Stan. The two of them were attached to the same platoon as them. Stan greeted them but Talcott deliberately ignored them, being engrossed in something else.

“I’ve had enough of that brutal mercenary business. When I met you here, I thought I had found a flower that is only for me. A flower that I feel I’ll carry away with these hands rather than have it be picked by other guys. Say, when the fighting is over, how about leaving this town with me?”

He was making advances to a girl working at the shop. She was about twenty years old. Her head wrapped in a vivid red scarf, the woman turned her shoulder and dodged Talcott’s hand.

“If you say the same thing sober and after having watched me put my make-up on, then I’ll believe it.”

She answered laughingly although she was wearing very little make-up. In short, she was quite used to this. Shique could well imagine that she broke away from drunkards like this every night and smiled involuntarily.

In the western Tauran region, there were huge differences in the status of women depending on the country. Here in Helio as in Taúlia, they were comparatively free as to their appearances – although there was still the regional characteristic of exposing as little of the skin as possible – and thus could get jobs in the service industry, but for example in Cherik to the west, it was forbidden for women to appear in public and when they went out, they were strictly obliged to envelop not only their bodies but also their faces in cloth so that only their eyes were exposed.

In any case, the woman who had gently chided Talcott went towards Orba and the others and took their orders. Upon seeing Orba’s masked appearance her eyes went a little wide in surprise, but she didn’t say anything in particular. Gilliam looked around the store. It wasn’t very large and could only take five tables side-by-side, but there didn’t appear to be any other store employee.

“Do you manage it alone?”

“My little brother is in the kitchen,” The young woman answered adroitly. “He shook off my opposition and took part in the fighting in Eimen, and injured his leg. As he is surly even when he comes out, I’ve left the kitchen to him.”

Her appearance was simple and she was not the type to attract looks and be called beautiful, but her expression and voice were bright and cheerful. She was surely very popular in the neighbourhood. In some ways, she was reminiscent of a woman called Mira, the attendant to the Imperial Guards’ Infantry Regiment.

There was one other customer. He was also a member of the same mercenary platoon but unlike Talcott and the others, he sat alone. He was even more taciturn than Orba currently was and his voice wasn’t heard again after the initial greeting. His name was something like Kurun.

The young woman who had given her name as Kay came in carrying the food. Roasted mutton flavoured abundantly with spices, pumpkin soup and various vegetables.

Gilliam had ordered beer but the store didn’t have any. In its place, a liquor made from nuts was brought out. As it was sharp and very bitter, Gilliam pulled a face after just one mouthful.

“Neither the food nor the drinks here have anything going for them.”

“Don’t say that. Come on Orba, you eat too. Once you get used to it, eating any country’s food is all the same.”

As they were more than halfway through their meal,

“Oh, we’ve never been here before.”

“Doesn’t it look kind of dirty? That’s why I said we should’ve gone to the earlier shop.”

With a clatter of footsteps, the men entered noisily. Glancing at the entrance, Kay frowned for a moment.

They were well-built soldiers in plain equipment.

“Red Hawks,” Shique muttered in a whisper. On their breastplates was drawn a bright red hawk. The emblem of the mercenaries led by Greygun.

Ever since coming to Helio, they had had considerable power there and so it was said that they behaved as though the town were theirs. They gallivanted around every day thanks to their abundant war funds and wrecked shops where they claimed there was bad service. They extorted money from wealthy merchants on the grounds that they were protecting the town. Those who defied them even a little were hit, kicked and finally dragged to the Red Hawks’ barracks.

King Jallah pretended not to see any of this. Greygun’s main hold was that Helio was currently a country with no one else to defend it. And so his soldiers grew more and more arrogant, and not a day went by without them causing trouble.

Shique and the others were getting to see that kind of typical behaviour. The soldiers haughtily sat down and ordered food.

“Oh? There are Mephians here,” one of them said, intending to be heard. “Oi, how many Zerdians from Taúlia did you kill? And they dare send them into Tauran!”

“Leave it. Or you’ll be murdered by that boy in the mask.”

Vulgar laughter sounded. Shique held back Gilliam who was about to wordlessly rise from his seat. That he had not been going to leave the shop was obvious from the way the muscles in his arms were bulging.

Kay brought in the food and alcohol. After the soldiers had complained harshly about the seasoning, when Kay had gone up to them to clear away the empty plates,

“Kyaa!”

Forcibly pulling Kay’s hand, a soldier held her in his own arms.

“P-Please stop,” courageous and firm, Kay did not lose her smile. “If you are looking for that kind of shop, there are any number in the alleys.”

“I’m not interested in prostitutes. I’ll show you a good time. As a Red Hawk’s woman, you’ll have as much money as you want. You’ll get to wear nice clothes too. It’s not a bad deal.”

“Boorish louts,” Talcott whispered audibly from where he was. “Their way of flirting is just vulgar.”

“I have the shop I inherited from my parents, so…”

“Hah, just hurry up and close such a boring, worthless shop…” The one who spoke was a soldier with full cheeks. While two or three of the others roared with laughter, Kay scowled and tried to stand up. At that, the soldier with full cheeks shoved her down.

“Sister!”

A young man had suddenly come flying out of the kitchen. Although it had to be said that he was somewhat lacking in force as he did so since he walked with a cane, dragging his right leg. Kay’s brother no doubt.

“What are you doing to my sister? Get out!”

He was slender and still at an age where he could be called a boy, but he approached the soldiers with an impressively threatening look. One of them spread his hands wide.

“Oi, oi. You don’t need to threaten us like that. Our bad. We’ll leave at once.”

As he said that, he kicked the boy in the stomach. As his body pitched forward, this time it was Kay who yelled out “Niels!” as she tried to go to him. Her hair was yanked from behind.

“Sure, we’ll leave like you asked. But before we leave this shop, it might be that the shop disappears from in front of us, you know?” He forcefully lifted Kay onto his shoulder.

Tsk, Shique bit his lip. Even after having joined roughneck mercenaries, he still wasn’t one to toe the line. But they couldn’t kick up a row with the Red Hawks. Just then, he saw Kurun out of the corner of his eye. He had hunched his shoulders as though not wanting to be noticed and it looked like he was thoroughly frightened, except that his expression was furious. He was probably dealing with the same inner conflict – just as Shique was thinking that,

“Ugah!”

A strange groan sounded.

One of the soldiers clutched the side of his face.

It can’t be…

Shique didn’t need to wonder any further. At the soldier’s side stood the figure of a man in a mask. His fist was stretched out in mid-air.

“Ho,” Gilliam grinned and rose from his seat. “For once we agree, boy.”

“W-Wait!”

Before Shique had time to stop him, Gilliam rushed in.

“These Mephian bastards!”

“Do you know what will happen to you for laying hands on us?”

“And you,” Gilliam threatened in place of Orba, who remained silent. “Don’t think you can get away after laying hands on a woman!”

“Damn you, try us!”

With seven of them, the Red Hawks were the more numerous. Even though no sword had been drawn, with the pushing and jostling a confused brawl broke out. While Gilliam caught one of them under his arm and tossed him away, Orba suddenly stepped back from the one he had been grappling with and threw a direct kick at his nose. Breaking in at that moment to try and stop things, Shique was punched from the side. For a moment, he watched the blood drip from his nose and stain the floor as though it was somebody else’s problem then,

“You bastard,” his shaking voice sounded like that of a different man. “You injured my face. The face of Shique Aeland, the descendant of an ancient dynasty! ”

“Keep yapping!”

He dodged the next fist flung his way by quickly squatting then mercilessly kneed his opponent in the groin.

In the midst of this commotion, nobody noticed that the mercenary called Kurun had disappeared. As for Talcott who had been sitting further away, he had nimbly jumped on top of his table and was cheering enthusiastically. And thereupon hit Stan with his elbow.

He glanced towards the entrance, his eye caught by something, then with surprising speed started running towards the back door. Stan followed after.

At about exactly the same time that the two vanished from sight,

“What are you doing!”

More soldiers appeared in the doorway. No doubt they had come because they had heard the uproar. Unfortunately for Orba and the others however, they were not part of Helio’s regular troops. On each of their armoured breasts, a red hawk proudly spread its wings.

Part 2

Within the castle hall, Bouwen Tedos was having an audience with King Jallah. Beside whom was Queen Marilène.

Bouwen had also heard a great many rumours, but, he reflected, as to whether they were true or not, the only one he could currently confirm was that of her jewel-like beauty.

Cherik’s royal family had a close relationship with one of the coastal countries, Libra, and Marilène had also inherited foreign blood. Her skin was as pale as ivory, her hair and eyes as black as jet. Somehow just from her being there, the place seemed almost stiflingly filled with the fragrance of flowers.

As for Jallah, he was a pot-bellied man whose eyes slanted downwards. Not matter how much he dressed up like a king, his appearance was uncomfortably close to that of a nervous middle-aged man who had been forced to perform the king’s part in a play.

Be that as it may, Jallah offered the customary greetings.

“Still, hasn’t Sir Bazgan’s decision come a little late?” Greygun cut in.

No matter how richly he was being paid for his services, a mercenary was a mercenary. Bouwen was a little taken aback by his manner which was like that of a king. And because of his youth, he couldn’t hide his surprise.

“I-Isn’t it fine, Greygun? Since with this six hundred soldiers have hurried over.”

Jallah intervened to smooth things over. Even from an outsider’s perspective, it was obvious that he couldn’t help breaking out into a cold sweat from being caught in a difficult position between the two.

Seething anger born from surprise welled up within Bouwen’s breast.

“Sir Greygun is acting exactly like the country’s general.” He said, his words mixing exaggerated praise and sarcasm.

Greygun’s expression however didn’t change in the slightest.

“I am a man fit only for fighting,” he boasted. “In times of peace, I’m not good for anything but during a war, indeed, I will show you that I am just as competent as any country’s general. As for my having flown from Cherik, with all due respect to him, King Yamka II was showing a weak attitude towards Garda’s army. I judged that I would be able to fight to my heart’s content here in Helio and so I came.”

His manner seemed easy-going as he fiddled with his beard, but his eyes both overflowed with energy and held the cool glint of beaten steel. As he said himself, he looked like a person who was competent when it came to battles.

“Oh, what a reliable ally we’ve acquired. And what bad luck for Garda’s army that such a great hero exists in Helio.”

“My performance will be suitably outstanding.” Greygun smiled disdainfully.

Damn cub – That feeling could clearly be seen through his smile. Bouwen was certainly young and was on the verge of flying unthinkingly into a rage.

At that moment, a person rushed in. One of Greygun’s subordinates. He kneeled at a distance.

“It’s fine,” Greygun gave his permission and beckoned him to his side. He didn’t appear to care that they were in the presence of the king. “What!” Greygun exclaimed as the man whispered in his ear. Then after an interval, he looked towards Bouwen.

“W-What is it, Greygun?”

Asked King Jallah, unable to bear the tense atmosphere.

“This is quite a problem,” Greygun stroked the hair on his chin. “It seems that no sooner had they arrived than Sir Bouwen’s soldiers began running amok in town.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m told they were out drinking, drunkenly picked a fight with my men and injured seven of them.”

“Nonsense!”

Bouwen growled, but while Greygun truly did seem troubled, it was clear from his expression that he found this development amusing.

“King Jallah, it appears my men have seized the scoundrels and are bringing them nearby. Is it alright if they haul them here?”

Although he asked for the king’s decision, it was obvious from the tone of his voice that he knew what the answer would be. His eyes glinted like a naked blade when Jallah weakly nodded “Y-Yes”.

Before long, three young men were lead into the hall. In that instant, Bouwen ground his teeth.

Shit!

The ones with their hands tied behind their back were undoubtedly Taúlian mercenaries. He didn’t remember the face of each and every one of them, but there was no mistaking the appearance of that masked soldier. Reading Bouwen’s expression, Greygun smiled,

“It certainly appears that they are Taúlian soldiers.”

Laughter broke out from an unexpected direction. Ringing out as clear as chimes, that voice did not fit the occasion.

“M-Marilène.”

While Jallah cringed, the beautiful queen lifted her plump lips into an enchanting smile.

“As seven were said to have been injured, I was wondering how many people there were. Were the brave heroes of the Red Hawks bested by only three people? Taúlia has also gathered powerful warriors here.”

“Y-Yes.” Bouwen was unable to give any other answer.

Greygun of course did not find the comment amusing. Squaring his shoulders, he approached the three of them.

“Given that he has his face hidden, he might be a spy for the sorcerer. Or he might have used some suspicious art. Anyway, show us your face!”

Greygun smoothly unsheathed the sword at his waist and instantly pressed it against the masked soldier’s – against Orba’s neck. Orba didn’t stir a single muscle. Greygun mockingly slid the sword’s blade over the mask.

“Oh ho, you don’t beg for your life? It’s also said that the sorcerer’s puppets have no heart.” Still talking nonsense, Greygun swiftly raised the sword over his shoulder. “My Lady Queen, will a puppet die if you slice off its head? Don’t you think that would make for a very interesting spectacle? I will show it to you right now.”

Marilène kept a faint smile on her face and seemed about to rise to her feet to better see the execution. Shique held his breath and even Gilliam was about to shout out when,

“Wait!”

An old man appeared in the hall. He was clad in a luxurious blue toga but his footsteps were unsteady and a soldier was propping him up on either side. An uneasy tremor passed over Jallah’s face before he smoothed it over with a courteous smile.

“Well, well, Lord Hardross! It is unusual for you to come here. And your health, are you well?”

Hardross Helio, father of Elargon, the previous king. His thin chest heaved up and down. Although he had lost both his position and title as royalty, he still had considerable influence. To the people, the exploits of Helio’s royal family and of Hardross himself were unforgettable, and if Jallah wished to reign peacefully, he would have to be careful about how he treated Hardross.

At present, he was in a state of house arrest. He was allowed to move relatively freely within the palace but soldiers under Jallah’s command kept a strict watch over him and he couldn’t take a single step outside.

“Am I well?”

The old man’s voice shook as he spoke. The wrinkles all over his face were like hollows carved by anguish. But his eyes were firm as he glared at both Jallah and Greygun.

“Even if I were not well, such a racket within the Court could not fail to spur an old man into action. Greygun, or whatever you’re called, I will not allow more blood to be shed needlessly within Helio’s royal court. News of the racket your soldiers raise in town has also reached my ears. There will be no talk of leaving it at having these three shouldering the entire responsibility alone.”

Greygun for the time being adopted a respectful posture and sheathed his sword. Focussing his eyes at the last on Marilène, Hardross said,

“Now is not the time for inside quarrels. Any day now a fearsome foreign enemy might destroy the walls of Helio. Our duty is to protect the people. In a situation like this, to raise one’s sword because of a town brawl is…”

Having spoken that far, Hardross started coughing violently. Jallah seized the opportunity and clapped his hands to have him expulsed.

“Sir, you should not overdo it. Here! Escort Lord Hardross back to his room.”

“Wait, Jallah. There is still…”

Even as he was being almost violently jostled, Hardross started to say something when Marilène gently swept up the long hem of her dress and rose from her seat.

“My lord, please be at ease. I will take responsibility for welcoming these brave heroes from a foreign country and there will be no more bloodshed in this place. Isn’t that right, Greygun?”

“Yes.”

As the queen had declared that she was taking Orba and the others as her own guests, Greygun could not interfere. Marilène turned her eyes from the mercenary commander back to her former father-in-law and smiled sweetly.

“There, please return to your room and recuperate. The most important thing that you must do for this country My lord, is to please take care of your health.”

“You vixen!”

During another furious coughing fit, Hardross glared rigidly at Marilène. When his figure finally disappeared, the temperature in the hall abruptly seemed to drop by two or three degrees.

Not long after, Greygun also excused himself from Jallah’s presence. Running after him, the vice-commander of the mercenaries complained bitterly,

“I didn’t think that the queen would interfere.”

Greygun snorted and his moustache swayed slightly at the breeze.

“We’re talking about that wanton queen. I’d say that tonight for a change, she’ll be inviting the likes of mercenaries to her bedroom.”

So he said but the look in his eyes was nowhere near as calm as his words and he always took an unusual amount of interest in Marilène. And also,

That masked bastard. Even when I thrust my sword at him, he stared straight back into my eyes.

The look in the eyes of one worthless soldier had left Greygun irritated.

A while later, the commander of the mercenary troop left the vice-commander and returned to the spacious room inside the castle that he had been allocated. There a man with a cloth wound around his head who looked like nomad was waiting for him. Here in Helio, he was always near Greygun. Although their relation was probably that of master and servant, he didn’t turn around when Greygun entered and was peering into some kind of crystal ball that he held in his hands. Not seeming to mind, Greygun asked,

“Can you see something interesting?”

The shape of the crystal ball that the man was holding resembled a skull, but one slightly different from a human skull. It had a long snout and on either side of the forehead there was a protuberance resembling a horn. The shape was like something between a human and a dragon. Looking into the sunken eye sockets, the man said,

“The arrangements are complete.”

Oh, hummed Greygun. He had forgotten his earlier irritation and his eyes blazed with light.

“At last. I’m tired of being an army commander. That a sorcerer with devilish power should once again hold sway over the world, truly, this era has become much more interesting.”

Stroking his dark blue beard, Greygun struck the pommel of his sword as though unable to suppress his excitement.

Part 3

Where Marilène invited the three was naturally not to her bedroom, but to a temple of the Dragon God faith.

Looking up at the high domed roof, now that the sun was sinking the top was swallowed by the shadows and could no longer be seen. After waiting for court ladies to light a number of candlesticks dotted around the temple, Marilène walked along the marble floor then knelt for a moment before the altar to offer a prayer.

“This also fits with that fortune-telling,” Gilliam whispered stealthily. “A noblewoman, huh? Things sure aren’t boring when you’re around.”

Orba silently stared at Marilène’s back – she who was reviled in the city as a queen who had betrayed the country – and at the temple’s interior. In this temple, there were none of the many images and statues found in Mephian temples. A dazzlingly gorgeous gold and silver band ran around the walls but apart from that there was nothing that attracted the eye.

“Now then, Dear Guests,” Marilène turned around and gave them an inappropriately bewitching smile. “I did not idly help you. If I gave now you the order to relieve my boredom, what would you do? I hear there are gladiatorial ceremonies in Mephius. What if I told you to select a looser from within you and offer him up as a sacrifice before the altar?”

Shique bowed reverently,

“The one who gathered up our lives like flowers is the Lady Queen, the one who will discard our lives is also the Lady Queen. We will do as we are ordered.”

“A man so admirable as to say such things is rarely seen,” Marilène laughed, covering her lips with the back of her hand.

The priests brought cups of wine for the three of them. Marilène also took one.

“This is also a test of luck. Poison has been added to one of these. A deadly poison that was order from Salissa in the west. A few drops poured into wine are more than enough to kill several grown men. However, not all three of you have to drink. Won’t one of you go first to drain your cup. Whether that man lives or dies, I will release all of you.”

Shique and Gilliam exchanged looks. They couldn’t guess what the queen’s real intentions were and so naturally their expressions were strained. After all, she was a woman who, when her husband had only just died in battle, had accepted a marriage proposal from a vassal who had been involved in rebellion.

Orba for his part stared fixedly at the contents of the cup he had been given. In the faint light that illuminated it, it was of course impossible to tell whether or not the wine was dark from poison.

“What’s wrong? Is it that Mephians prefer it to be gladiators after all?”

Marilène asked, spinning her wine cup in her hand. Her eyes sparkled, brimming with curiosity. Her expression was like that of a little girl as she played with the three men’s lives.

Orba could see the mask and his own eyes reflected in the liquid. Their surroundings were so silent you could hear the sound of heartbeats.

Thinking about it… Orba became lost in thought while staring into his own eyes. Thinking about it, for the past six years, my heart was only beating for the sake of killing Oubary.

Now that objective is gone, what on earth is my blood flowing for, what do I go to sleep for, what do I face the morning for? Since leaving Mephius, he had become possessed by a strange sense of weariness.

Even if it was too far, even if it was too difficult, with revenge as a clear goal, Orba had been able to overcome any ordeal, no matter how harsh. No matter how impatient he had felt, he had been able to grit his teeth and look forward to that day. However now when he walked, there was nothing in the far distance that he had to aim for. No, even at a faltering pace, he could no longer take a single step forward.

Am I obsessed with Oubary? Now that he’s gone, I eat, shit, roll myself up in a blanket and sleep – is that kind of ordinary thing all I can do?

In that bar in Helio, when he had heard the woman named Kay scream, what flashed through Orba’s mind had been the image from more than six years earlier of his mother being grasped tightly by violent Garberan soldiers.

Black, muddy feelings had reared their head within Orba’s breast. Viscous blood streamed towards the veins in his hands and feet. By the time he realised it, without understanding his own intentions, as though controlled by that black blood, Orba had knocked down the Red Hawks’ soldier.

How long am I going to…

He had remained that boy who wandered about crying and screaming after leaving his native village.

“Orba!”

Shique and Gilliam cried together. Orba had tilted the wine cup towards him and swallowed its contents in one gulp.

“Oh!” Her eyes sparkling, Marilène emptied her own cup. “Those two can drink up too. This was just for fun. There was no poison from the start.”

Having firmed their resolve, Shique and Gilliam poured the wine down their throats. It was alcohol of the finest quality, as different as could be expected from what was served in a rundown town district. There was no change to their condition either. It seemed to be confirmed that there was no poison.

After that, Marilène arranged for chairs for the three of them. They were asked a number of things about their home country of Mephius. Just as he had when they had previously been invited by Princess Esmena, Shique took charge of answering.

“Oh, so you were part of the Mephian gladiators that I have heard about,” Marilène was comfortably leaning into a sofa. “That explains how you were able to knock down the Red Hawks’ soldiers. I’ve been curious about this for a long time but are gladiators only men? Are there no women gladiators?”

“There are no women that are called gladiators. However, several times a year, dozens of women who wish to regain their freedom may be made to fight in the arena. They grapple bare-handed and also practically half-naked.” “So they are made into a spectacle. But in order to gain their freedom, they are willing to be laughed at, made the objects of bets and to risk their lives fighting.”

“As to that…”

“I would like to see it with my own eyes.” Marilène emptied her second cup of wine.

Orba hadn’t said a word during this time but suddenly, Marilène got up and stood right before him.

“Interesting,” she suddenly said. “You are not afraid of me. No, in the first place, you are not even interested. Your eyes look exactly as though you have lost someone you love.”

Through the mask, Orba’s eyes looked agitated.

“Were you planning to die from the start and were searching for a battlefield on which to do so?”

“I – You must be joking.”

Orba answered in a hoarse voice. As he boyishly seemed about to turn away his masked gaze, Marilène suddenly smiled.

“That’s the sort of man who has the devil’s own luck and who doesn’t die. That will do, you may leave now. It is splendid to be skilled and brave, but it would be good if you did not act rashly in the future.”

At Marilène’s prompting, the three of them left the temple. As they breathed in the night air, which one of them was it who sighed? Even for gladiators who had experienced countless scenes of carnage, that scene just now was somewhat different from what they were used to.

“You seem to be good at provoking women’s displeasure.”

Gilliam said with a half-serious expression, but Orba once again remained silent. In his mind however, Marilène’s words resounded again and again.

When the three of them had left the premises of the royal court,

“Yo-oh!”

The one in front of the gate waving his hand was Talcott. Next to him was Stan. As Gilliam approached baring his teeth threateningly, Stan took an exaggerated leap backwards.

“You escaped by yourselves pretty quickly.”

“Oi, oi. We only got dragged into your fight. You should be grateful for our backup, there’s no reason to blame us.”

In reality, they had assumed the role of spectators without giving backup, however the fight with the Red Hawks had undoubtedly been caused by Orba and the others. Gilliam stopped, still growling, and Talcott smiled complacently.

“But anyway, you lot. It’s good that you’ve come back safely.”

“The gentleman in the mask found favour with a noblewoman,” Shique said and Talcott looked at him blankly. Then realising that Red Hawks mercenaries were looking at them venomously from inside the gate, he mockingly stuck out his tongue with a Beh.

“Serves those bastards right. Anyway, let’s go that shop again. As a celebration for beating those Red Hawks into a fit. Since it looks like Stan got quite a lot from gambling, I’ll treat you to a cup this time.” Talcott spoke as though it was his own money.

“For now, I think we need to go and report to Duncan-dono.”

“Leave it. For one thing, he won’t have heard of your release yet. C’mon, let’s go, let’s go!”

Although Talcott had at first disliked Orba and the others, now that trouble had arisen with an even more dislikeable bunch, he seemed to regard them as comrades. In that regard, he was every bit as simple as Stan.

Orba didn’t have any particular objection either and the five of them went back to Kay’s shop. The tables and chairs had been broken during the scuffle, but Talcott offered a tip, saying that “I there’s nothing else, then the floor is fine.” Her hair tied back, Kay shook her head left and right.

“No, I can’t take it. You saved me after all.”

“That’s good but I can’t agree with you continuing on with the shop,” said Shique. “That Red Hawks bunch might trash it again in revenge.”

“If I did that, it would mean losing against them. This shop is the one thing I cannot hand over.” Behind her adult-like smile, Kay’s stubbornness flickered in and out of view.

In the end, since she wasn’t doing business, Kay took part in the mercenaries’ modest banquet. Her younger brother Niels – who had a bad leg – also joined at the foot of the table after he had finished preparing some light snacks.

The topic of conversation jumped from this to that, but first Talcott had wanted to hear about how they had escaped from Greygun’s underlings. After Shique and Gilliam had explained,

“Eh, so it was that beautiful queen,” Talcott opened his eyes round. “But still, although I’m only looking at this from a distance, she really is a queen who has never known hardship. Do you think that even if Garda’s army invaded, she alone would be spared because of her beauty?”

“Oh, I don’t think that she has never known hardship,” said Kay. Although she was young, she had since earlier been quaffing more drinks than the men.

“How’s that? She’s a country’s queen, you know.”

“Lady Marilène became a bride when she was only fourteen. Men are convinced that the trouble and suffering of a woman are trivial when she goes alone to be married in another land. And on top of that, to a man she had never even met and that she doesn’t love in the slightest.”

“Oh, come on, Sis! It’s different than from commoners like us.”

“Oh, did you just call me ‘Sis’?”

Fourteen? Thought Orba. A fourteen-year-old girl going alone to be married in another land. To a man she doesn’t even love, that she has never even met.

And on top of that, to a land that has been an enemy at war with her own country for ten years.

For a while now, a face other than Marilène’s had appeared in his mind and refused to leave. “Tsk,” Orba clicked his tongue. Sure enough, he wasn’t good with alcohol.

“Sorry, but I can’t sympathise with the queen,” Talcott continued on that topic. “According to what I’ve heard, right after King Elargon died in battle, a messenger from Cherik went to see her. I bet they had it in mind to instigate the rebellion and then capture Helio with Cherik’s might.”

“I’ve heard that too,” nodded Niels, his face still bearing conspicuous acne scars. “The wrath of the Dragon Gods will surely descend upon that queen someday. Cherik won’t be able to do as it pleases with our Helio.”

“And what can you do about it, you idiot? It would be much better if you thought of a new menu to attract customers.”

Kay’s father had set up the shop but just when it was starting to get on track, he was drafted and had never returned. This wasn’t in the battle against Garda’s army but in the attack more than ten years ago by none other than Mephius. Gilliam and the others looked uncomfortable at the talk about Mephius, but Kay shook her head,

“It’s alright. There’s a truce with Mephius, right? Since there’s no more reason to fight, there’s no use for quarrels and hatred. Niels however didn’t get taken for a soldier against his will, he went off to fight without saying anything.”

“Enough already with that. Don’t scold me even in front of customers.”

“What,” Kay drunkenly picked a fight with her little brother. “You’re acting cocky because we’re in public. But you’re usually crying and going Big Sister, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Niels’ face turned red. He opened his mouth wide as though to shout something but,

“Please stop.”

Shique and Gilliam looked surprised. The one who had spoken was Orba.

“After all, he’s a man. He wants to rise upwards with a sword and doesn’t want to made fun of in public.”

“That…” Kay pouted.

“He wants to help his sister who is a woman managing a shop alone.”

As Orba continued, she kept silent. Niels, embarrassed, he deliberately left and brought back more alcohol. When he returned, Kay murmured “Oh, I see”.

“I suppose he won’t just stay ‘my little brother’ forever.”

“Ho-oh,” Gilliam slung a brawny arm around Orba’s neck.

“What the – Don’t touch me, you reek of alcohol.”

“What, you always get cocky. It’s different from back then! Tarkas isn’t here to break up fights and no one’s legs are tied with chains.”

“Yeah, it was only thanks to that that you escaped death so many times.”

“You!”

The two of them seemed about to break into a scuffle at any moment when, “Stop it!” Kay broke in with surprising vigour. The two men were taken aback by the sorrow hidden in her eyes.

“Go outside if you’re going to fight. I won’t tolerate this shop being wrecked any more than it already is!”

As she shouted that, Talcott and Shique burst out laughing.