Rakuin no Monshou - Book 5: Chapter 5: Lasvius' Unit

Part 1

Lasvius was frustrated.

Speaking of Lasvius, there wasn’t a person in Helio who didn’t know of the commander of the dragon riders. His many feats of arms had made his name famous not only in his own country but also throughout the four corners of Tauran. As he was a man who had sworn absolute loyalty to Helio’s royal family, and even when Helio was being ravaged by civil war, he had stayed within its old castle and he and his men had fought bravely, singlehandedly taking on the might of the rebellion.

In the end however, he disappeared and it was rumoured that he might have died in battle.

That Lasvius.

He was still alive. As well as himself, three hundred of the dragoons who had served King Elargon had hidden themselves in the Belgana Summits.

By one of those jagged peaks that resembled sharp fangs, a wide valley opened to the east and west. Lasvius having discovered it at the end of their flight, they had piled up stones at the valley’s entrance as a temporary defensive wall and over fifty of his troops, himself included, now dwelt in the caverns carved out in the cliff face. The remainder had been divided into platoons and, in similar shelters from the elements, awaited their opportunity.

The caves where Lasvius and his group lived had been eroded out of the rock over a very long period of time by water from a narrow tributary branch of a nearby river that flowed through there. Thanks to that, there was at least no shortage of drinking water. The platoons would occasionally come over and draw some. Food however was not so easy to come by.

It had been less than a month since Helio had fallen to hands of rebels. They had carefully rationed out and survived on the food that they had been able to carry with them. When it had run out, they had no choice but to roast and eat their horses and dragons. It was a dishonour for dragon riders. Even so, they had chewed at the meat of their favourite steeds and swallowed it in tears.

If they alone had escaped, they probably would not have been able to endure such a disgrace and would no doubt have resolved to face an honourable death by attempting to retake Helio. Nor had Lasvius ever feared death. However, there was one thing that he had to protect no matter what. The only hope remaining to them: Elargon’s fatherless son, Rogier.

It had happened when Lasvius was still upholding the resistance movement within Helio.

As most of the royal palace had already been occupied, it was unclear whether the former king, Hardross, and Prince Rogier were even still alive. Then unexpectedly, several palace handmaidens had reached Lasvius by using the secret passages within the palace, bringing Rogier with them. It seemed they would be able to escape taking only the prince with them.

At that time, Lasvius immediately decided to leave Helio. The prince would only be in danger if they stayed there fighting. First of all, as long as the successor to the crown still lived, nobody, no matter what kind of person they might be, would be able to claim to be the rightful king. In other words, even if a false king, an arrogant usurper were to establish themselves in Helio, they would merely be beings that would inevitably one day be overthrown.

Lasvius escaped from Helio with his subordinates and the prince, and they hid themselves in these caves.

They would without fail return Helio to the hands of the rightful royal family – such was their wish and in order to accomplish it, they were willing to endure any hardship. Even as the soldiers gradually grew thinner and thinner, the gleam in their eyes grew sharper and they gave the impression that their very bodies had become keen-edged blades.

They were like carnivorous animals stalking their prey and awaiting intently for their chance. Cautiously, carefully, he had his men infiltrate Helio and get in contact with those soldiers who had been King Elargon’s followers and who were likewise still hidden in Helio.

And then, the perfect opportunity arose. As Garda’s army had departed from Eimen, a large military contingent set off from Helio. Some wanted to attack immediately, but Lasvius remained cautious. If they retook the city while the troops were on the march, those blades would turn back and Helio would once more be plunged into civil war.

To make their move, they needed to wait until the troops clashed with Garda’s army. Therefore, while the troops were on the march, he had increased the number of his people acting in secret within the city.

Even so – the fortunes of war were not with us.

It was a mistake.

As the battle between Garda’s army and Helio began, just as Lasvius’ group was finally about to make its move, Helio suddenly fell. Moreover, Helio’s troops were routed at the battle at the Coldrin Hills. All because the mercenary commander Greygun had betrayed them. In order to have their advance unit arrive at Helio half a day later, they had left the hilly area less than two hours before the start of the fight in which Garda’s army and Greygun’s troops joined forces. Because of his timing, Lasvius had completely lost his chance.

It was said that the false king Jallah was hauled off stark naked and publicly executed.

“Jallah should have been defeated at our hands. That those mercenary scoundrels were the ones to take his head – that more than anything, above anything, is intolerable!”

Lasvius recalled what the soldiers who had returned from Helio with that report had howled in frustration, their cheeks awash with tears.

“Marilène, that-that witch! She’s definitely tied to Cherik. Greygun wasn’t driven out by the king of Cherik because they’d fallen out. He was following the king’s scheme from the start and came over to our Helio pretending to have been kicked out. The queen knew it and invited in that base, vulgar hawk!”

The proof of this was that now that the name of Helio’s ruler had changed again in such a short time, Cherik had suddenly moved its troops. Not to bring relief to Helio. They had taken up position along the border with Taúlia. Having been forced to hurriedly make preparations to intercept them, Taúlia was unable to send reinforcements to Helio. This of course was Cherik’s aim. Even though they didn’t appear to be going to immediately assail Taúlia, they still hadn’t pulled up camp.

Now, when Helio was falling, Taúlia could not easily move its army. Because be it Helio or Cherik, whichever route they chose, there was a high chance that they would be caught in a pincer attack.

If they make a bad move, they’ll end up in a deadlock.

Lasvius grew more and more frustrated. They could only wait patiently for the next opportunity. However, given his unit’s situation, would they be able to last another two or three weeks? If their identities were suspected by the nearby nomadic herders that they had sold their weapons to and bought food from, there might by someone among them who would run to Helio to inform on them. Garda’s army was currently invincible and there would surely be many people who hoped to survive by forging a link with it.

But I’m different, thought Lasvius. Since the rightful king was nearby, he knew neither hunger nor fatigue. No, even if he felt them, even if he were on the verge of death, he wouldn’t consider his own self-protection. That was the kind of man he was.

His men were the same. That very day, Lasvius had gone around all the places were his men were staying, starting with the caves, and as expected, the soldiers’ faces were strongly marked with discouragement and weariness. Nevertheless, there was still some strength left. Lasvius had the personality befitting of a general and he shared a bond of steel with them.

However,

At present, there was an atmosphere of unrest in the cave. As he went towards the slime-covered cliff face, there was the main culprit. Seeing none other than Rogier talking to him, a crease appeared at the bridge of Lasvius’ nose.

That man wore a mask.

The day before yesterday, Lasvius had received a report,

“Kurun has returned.”

When he had heard the name Kurun, he had not immediately been able to remember him, but when he saw his face, he recognised the man as an apprentice dragoon. When Jallah had only just seized the throne, as vigilance was still weak, he had sent several people as mercenaries to Taúlia in order to gather information. Kurun was one of them.

Kurun had taken part in the battle at the Coldrin Hills. He had witnessed Greygun’s treachery at first hand and it seemed that he had barely managed to escape alive. Angry and frustrated, the apprentice soldier had told his tale in tears. Lasvius appreciated his efforts, but Kurun wasn’t alone; he had brought with him the Taúlian general, Bouwen, as well as several mercenaries. Among them, there was a swordsman who wore a mask and whose background was unknown, but according to Kurun, he was nothing short of a master.

“I think he will definitely be useful when we retake Helio.”

As Bouwen had lost consciousness, Lasvius had made sure he was given medical treatment. They had no surplus supplies, but he was still a Taúlian commander. One way or another, he expected that he would come in useful.

Three of the mercenaries however were Mephians. Like all Zerdians, he hated Mephius. He and his father had taken part in the war against them more than ten years ago, and his father had lost his life in a surprise attack by Mephian forces.

Nevertheless, Lasvius made sure that his men didn’t start a fight with them. They were deeply affected by the ugliness and futility of the internal strife in Helio. Their physical and mental endurance were reaching their limits, the only thing sustaining them was the thought of retaking their city. But turning that around, it meant that those who did not share that thought, even if they were allies, were nuisances who disturbed the bond.

But if we drive them out, they know about this place…

If it came to it, he would find some pretext to kill them. As far as Lasvius was concerned, there was no righteousness comparable to ensuring that Rogier would be the next king of Helio, and for that purpose, he was prepared to stain himself with any kind of disgrace.

A short while earlier.

Still wearing his mask, Orba, his back to the cliff face, was sharpening his sword. Shique returned to his side.

“How is he?”

“Still feverish. Aside from the wound to his shoulder, he also took a bullet to the back. His armour prevented it from reaching any internal organs but the bullet bit into his torn flesh.”

Bouwen still hadn’t regained consciousness. “I see,” Orba replied as his polished blade reflected his own face.

Thanks to the river flowing through the caves, they could drink water to their heart’s content, but they hadn’t had a proper meal these past two or three days. Hunger gave rise to impatience and irritation. Every day the quick-tempered Talcott and Gilliam would almost cause trouble with Helio’s dragoons, and every time they would be stopped by Stan and Shique.

Not only for Orba and the others but also for the dragon riders, feelings were growing more and more violent. As there was practically nothing to do except wait for an opportunity, every day they would sit in a circle and pile abuse on Greygun and Cherik. Taken together, the brunt of their hatred was aimed at Helio’s queen, Marilène.

Once Greygun had become king of Helio, he had shamelessly desired Marilène to be queen again. And once again, Marilène had immediately agreed.

“Still, Helio’s calamities are unending,” Shique said with a sigh. He too was exhausted. “The king is killed in battle, and who would have thought there’d be a rebellion, then the mercenary commander they invited in turned traitor. And during that time, the ones who suffer the most are the powerless people. The violence of the Red Hawks is bad enough by itself, but Garda’s army has taken people hostage and it’s said they will be using them as sacrifices…”

It was said that on the day it fell, Helio was the scene of atrocities. Apparently all around, the mercenaries had broken into stores and houses, each intent on plundering even the tiniest bit more money and goods than his companions. Those who opposed them were mercilessly cut down and there was not a single street in which the screams of women could not be heard.

They might still have been continuing even now if not for the fact that on the day he became king, Greygun had considerably restrained them.

Now that he was no longer a mercenary commander but a king, it could be said that Greygun was going to maintain some kind sense and reason. Still, as to whether Helio was a country in which one could live as healthy a life as before, the answer was most definitely no.

“Apparently several of the high priests directly serving Garda have entered the court and demand several dozen sacrifices a day. On the king’s orders, night after night the soldiers appear in the town to choose who among the people will be sacrificed and to carry them away. If their families cling to them and scream to try and stop them, they immediately heft them onto their shoulders and take them too.”

“Enough.”

“I hope Kay and Niels are safe. Since they’ll have been marked down by the Red Hawks…”

“I said ‘enough’. Stop it!” Orba suddenly barked out angrily. Shique looked surprised, but he kept his mouth shut as he watched Orba polishing his blade with all his might.

The anger that had accumulated in Orba’s belly during their flight had become viscous and clung to his innards, not leaving him. His blood boiled as he couldn’t stand the thought of how that traitor Greygun had become king and still remained in Helio.

Now it’s personal.

When he had been a body-double, Orba had been fond of tricky schemes, so the fact that he had been beaten by such a scheme stoked the fire of his hatred. He felt like immediately galloping off to Helio and marching into the castle alone.

“Is that the sword that you bombarded Moldorf with strokes from?”

A young voice asked. The boy who was approaching him was Elargon’s only son, Rogier. There were several people with him who appeared to be acting as attendants, and it was clear from their expressions that they did not want Rogier going near the likes of a mercenary, but the boy’s freckled face was alight with curiosity as he peered at the sword in Orba’s hand. He was still only nine years old.

“It’s said that Kadyne’s Red Dragon is a commander equal to Lasvius. Are you stronger than Lasvius?”

Not even royalty was getting enough nutrition here, his sunken cheeks were slightly smeared with soil, and his eyes alone were shinning.

“Well, I don’t know,” as it was, Orba couldn’t ignore him and placed his sword on the ground. “Besides, I didn’t win against Moldorf. Even when I thrust a spear at him from the front, I couldn’t hit him at all. And I think I broke a bone breaking through to him in single combat.”

“Of course. Moldorf is said to be without peer on horseback,” fittingly for a boy from the royal family, he seemed to enjoy stories about battles. Rogier continued with an air of conviction, “it’s said that the first thing every country’s strategists think of is how to drag Moldorf from his horse. Should they should shoot at him with bullets and arrows, or should they maybe threaten his horse by bringing a large dragon up to it.”

“How about giving it an attractive mare?” Shique was so startled at Orba’s words that he opened his eyes wide. Orba wasn’t teasing, he just didn’t care about the conversation. Naturally, the faces of the attendants behind the prince grew grim, however, “If Moldorf’s horse forgets the battle and pounces on it, having gotten ready to fight as one with that horse, Moldorf might not be able to adjust his mental state.”

“That might be a plan,” Rogier was enjoying Orba’s unexpected answer, “but an attractive horse… how could humans tell what a horse thinks is beautiful or ugly…”

“A friend of mine has a gift for hearing the ‘voice’ of dragons. Maybe there’s also someone who can evaluate a horse’s beauty or ugliness…”

“You talk exactly like royalty or nobility,” Lasvius had approached them. Having received only a single glance from him, Orba didn’t give any greeting either.

The general’s face was in the same state as that of the other soldiers, but even though he was haggard, the physique beneath his armour remained impressive. He was thirty-five years old. Perhaps because he had grown thin, or perhaps because he had a month’s worth of hatred and resentment stocked up, his always slanted eyes now seemed to slant even further and his glare had become truly terrifying.

Orba however was perfectly composed,

“It’s the opposite. Because I don’t know any royals or nobles, I don’t understand the proper way to speak. My apologies if I was rude in any way.”

“You…”

Even now, Helio’s general was fearsome, and those around them held their breath. Then,

“Lasvius,” Rogier interposed. He explained Orba’s ‘clever scheme’ and asked whether among the subordinates, there was one who was thoroughly knowledgeable about horses. Lasvius gave a strained smile,

“I will have one searched for. Now then, Your Highness, it’s time for your studies. This way, please.”

“A bright and cheerful child,” commented Shique. “That brightness is very much what is saving those around him. If he lives and retakes Helio, he will probably be a good king.”

“Probably.”

“Still, that child is more adult-like than you. Seeing you snap at everyone feels just like back in the old days.”

“Shut up,” Orba looked sullen and turned away.

Naturally, not even he expected to gain anything from being rude towards Lasvius. However, his frustration and hatred were equal to Lasvius’ own. When they were escaping in fear of the shadow of their enemies, he had remembered the time in his childhood when he had been forced to flee from his native village.

Shit! Had he not picked up a sword so that would never happen again, so that nothing more could be taken from him?

I’ll have his head.

He would not be able to rest until he looked down at Greygun’s provoking face, his feet planted on either side of it.

“Just like back in the old days,” just as Shique had pointed out. He was going back to being the lone swordsman who guarded only his own life and dignity with his sword.

Part 2

“Move, move!”

Men clad in red armour were walking along the main streets of Helio. Although they weren’t being chased away by especially loud voices, the people had almost all disappeared and the Red Hawks mercenaries haughtily swaggered on.

On the day Helio fell, they had been the ones to lay waste to the city. They had gone into every private house hunting for Helio’s regular soldiers who were being sheltered there, but their purpose didn’t stop there. The soldiers has snatched everything that caught their eye, had dragged young girls into the open alleyways, had killed any man who opposed them and had wrecked entire houses.

And so the people locked their doors and hid so as not the catch the mercenaries’ eye. Only one elderly person watched the soldiers from a second-floor window of a merchant’s house, but when they saw that the soldiers were pulling old-fashioned cannons in their midst, they drew back from the window, trembling fearfully, tightly clutching their frightened grandchildren.

The Red Hawks mercenaries were headed towards the Dragon Gods temple.

As could be expected, only men who acknowledged Garda as the high priest of the Dragon Gods were awarded positions as leaders and Garda’s army had not once attacked a temple or a shrine. But there was a rumour that Helio’s soldiers were hidden within it. The previous day, mercenaries from the Red Hawks had intruded in on it to perform a search, but the priests had driven them out, saying,

“Those bearing swords cannot enter. Besides, today a messenger from Garda is here.”

Not so long ago, fear of strife with Garda’s army would have made the mercenaries withdraw, but now they had an awareness that Helio was theirs. Drinking and rioting until morning had spurred their hatred.

Then one of them started to talk big.

“Garda’s army is just a collection of troops from different countries. They can’t stand up to us who are united in ruling one country.”

“Right, if they fight back, we’ll chase them out of the city,” an artillery captain named Wadim added fervently. And so it had turned into a march in which they pulled out guns. Their purpose was of course to flush out Helio’s soldiers, but it seemed that the means had already turned into the end. As though to satisfy their childish desire for revenge, they positioned their guns before the temple.

Wadim was himself a Zerdian but through long association with foreigners in the course of his life as a mercenary, his awe and piety towards the Dragon Gods had completely faded away. There had been from the start a great number of ruffians with guilty consciousness among the Red Hawks. As they now ruled a country, their state of mind was naturally that of men who feared not even the gods.

They began ostentatiously heating the iron cannon balls [1] in front of the temple. It was a declaration of their intention to fire them one by one. Not surprisingly, the priests within the temple turned pale but,

“Please wait.”

An unexpected person appeared.

Marilène. Just as for the Zerdian queens of yore, her handmaidens were holding the long, trailing veil that adorned her head. Marilène liked dressing up in this way when she went out during the day. It was a way of showing her own power.

“Well met, our lady queen,” Wadim bowed in a fairly courteous manner. However, there was no trace of reverence in the stealthy glance he stole of the queen’s sensual figure.

He gave a faint, fleeting sneer,

A woman who’ll switch from one man to another to protect her life and her position.

It would have been one thing had it have stopped at scorn, but Marilène now drew the people of Helio’s hatred even more than she had before. The queen was the only one who had managed to maintain the same political power as before Greygun became king. Most of the soldiers and nobles who had opposed the Red Hawks’ insurrection had been killed, and those who were still alive had all been arrested. It was said that they were treated like animals.

Marilène was the one who ushered in Greygun and Garda’s army.

That rumour was repeated as though it were the truth and it seemed that now, for the people, Marilène was seen as more deserving of their hatred than even Greygun or Garda.

Even Wadim and his ilk referred to her simply as ‘the boss’ woman’. But for all that, they didn’t fear her in the slightest. However,

“Kindly take yourselves away at once,” she said slightingly. She gave an aloof tilt of her chin and gazed coldly at Wadim. Her way of talking was exactly as though she were requesting that pebbles be removed from her path as they were obstructing her walk.

Wadim’s face turned red.

“I-I do not believe that I will be able to take our lady queen’s words into account. King Greygun has ordered that we capture every last one of Helio’s soldiers. If you protect those who object to our search, then no matter how much you may be the queen…”

“And what did you mean to say by ‘no matter how much I may be the queen’?” Wadim remained silent. Although he was a good head taller than the queen, he felt as though he was being looked down upon from an immensely high place. “I frequently come by here. If the priests and priestesses were sheltering soldiers, I would have noticed. However I have not seen any soldiers here, yourselves excepted.”

“B-But…”

At that, the queen brought the back of her hand to her lips and gave a high-pitched laugh.

“But how very excessive of you to come to such a place pulling cannons and wearing full armour. There are none here who carry swords or spears. Who on earth within the Dragon Gods faith could possibly injure you?”

As she said that, Wadim and the others who had come ready and fully armed now felt like they were childishly storming a playground, and the former dignity of their full armour was now nothing but an embarrassment to them.

Sh-Shit!

Although no one other than Marilène was laughing, Wadim felt as though the people of Helio were peeping out from every nook and cranny, and that their faces all wore scornful smiles.

“T-This,” even so, Wadim gave Marilène his best glare and said, “I have no choice but to report this to the king.”

“Do as you please. Now then, have you done with your business? If so, you should leave.”

Marilène’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. Her plump lips still curved into a smile and she entered the temple before Wadim’s eyes.

It was not long since the sun had sunk over the horizon.

After she had taken a bath and as her handmaidens were combing out her hair, the clatter of Greygun’s violent footsteps was heard approaching Marilène’s room. As Marilène had not yet finished getting ready, there was a slight altercation at the door but as there was currently no one who could oppose Greygun, it was roughly flung open.

As Greygun advanced with long strides, it was as though a wild beast had been smuggled into the Court. However,

“Well, my dear lord,” Marilène called out with the same cool smile she had shown Wadim. She had called him this since the day of her becoming Greygun’s wife had first drawn near. Neither her voice nor her expression were those of a woman who had been toyed with by fate and hurled into cruel misfortune. Instead she gave the impression of having grown used to dealing with men who sought to obtain her.

Perhaps because of that, it stocked the fire of Greygun’s anger.

“It seems you got in the soldiers’ way,” Helio’s new king hurled out angrily.

The handmaidens silently shrank back. It was no wonder. What Greygun had done on the day he was proclaimed king was known throughout Helio. At daybreak, he had summoned the captive nobles to his presence and had them swear loyalty to himself.

He beheaded those who refused.

“Disloyal,” he had called them.

He also beheaded those who pledged their loyalty.

“Those who easily switch allegiance aren’t worthy of trust,” he had smiled.

Even his barred teeth were stained with the blood that had spurted from his victims. Tens of corpses rolled at Greygun’s feet, and it was said that they had been left where they were during the feast for his coronation.

Marilène had her handmaidens, who had quite lost their voices from fear, withdraw from her room.

“It was the temple that the sorcerer from Garda’s army was visiting. If even a single soldier lay concealed there, he would have been noticed immediately and long since been captured. Was that not rather a fool’s errand?”

She spoke as though completely indifferent to Greygun’s anger. Naturally, Greygun was fully aware of what she had pointed out. Furthermore, if the soldiers had attacked the temple and caused him to incur the displeasure of Garda’s army, it would be awkward for him. He was aware that Marilène’s actions had safeguarded his own position.

Whispered slander and malicious gossip notwithstanding, Marilène was a queen of noble lineage. To make such a queen his wife, Greygun had worked his utmost to become a ‘king’, but it was difficult for he who had come from the lowest social layer to rid himself of his inferiority complex. Marilène had understood that and in her outward behaviour towards him, she always raised him up to the standing of a ‘king’, such as how she had just now called to him ‘my dear lord’. And yet, it was irritating. It appears that someone like you can’t even stop your own soldiers from acting according as they please – how long would it be before she openly spoke her scorn? “This is my country. I will take charge of everything.”

“Would you say the same thing to the sorcerer, Garda?”

“What?”

An enigmatic smile broke over Marilène’s face. Greygun’s eyes blazed.

Is this vixen reading my thoughts?

In truth, Greygun had trouble dealing with the sorcerers who called themselves Garda’s direct subordinates. These were the men who handed down direct orders to Moldorf and the other officers. No sooner had their forces entered Helio than they demanded a hundred sacrifices. And thus they announced that from here on, once every two days, he would offer up ten young men and women. At first, Greygun had thought it was a joke. If a tiny city-state was to do that, it would very soon perish. But when he received the sorcerers’ icy glares from beneath their hoods, it felt like his own body temperature dropped.

Besides which, it was said that new troops from Eimen would soon be sent to Helio as reinforcements for Garda’s army. If their numbers increased, then no matter how much he might call himself ‘king’, Greygun didn’t think that he would be able to control them.

The kingdom that Greygun had finally obtained after being born on a battlefield and having gone through countless battles was already giving off the stench of death and ruin.

Swallowing these various thoughts, Greygun put force into his voice,

“Anyway, don’t just act as you please from now on.”

“Even so,” Marilène laughed in her rich voice, “As there is already a rumour that you, my dear lord, are being henpecked by the queen, your position can’t be said that be that of an imposing king…”

Her chin was suddenly jerked upwards and Marilène stopped talking.

Greygun’s glaring eyes were right next to hers. And yet, her smile was unperturbed.

The eyes that scorned him were like those of a witch and like those of a young girl’s.

After her chin, Greygun seized Marilène’s arm and forcibly made her stand, then threw her down on the canopied bed.

Then immediately was on top of her.

“Don’t say anything more,” he sealed her lips. Holding her down, he wished to waste no time in confirming that Marilène was entirely his. The woman who had three times been queen did not fight him. But Greygun couldn’t help but feel her icy, scornful gaze as she allowed him to stroke her skin.

Part 3

Bouwen regained consciousness on the fourth day after Orba’s group had joined with Lasvius’.

He had wept where he lay when he heard that Duncan and the others had made a stand and prepared to fight to the death in order to allow him to escape.

That very evening, a war council was held in a secluded part of the cavern and for some reason, Orba was summoned to it.

“I heard from Kurun. About how you displayed quick-wits during the retreat from the Coldrins. If you have any scheme for turning things around, speak.”

It was something that had long been true for the man called Orba that if there were people that he felt he couldn’t stomach, many among those people would also find Orba disagreeable and hateful. Lasvius was another such. Orba had originally known little about Helio’s circumstances. But now anger against Greygun was smouldering in his chest and he advocated gathering the best men and having them infiltrate Helio to kill him.

“Quite the hero,” Lasvius sneered, “but if we do as you say and the operation fails, our survival will be suspected and we’ll be destroyed. It seems you’re a little overrated.”

“What?”

Blood rushed to Orba’s head and Shique, who had gone with him, had to calm him down.

Naturally Lasvius wasn’t simply bidding for time. Via his men who had snuck into the city since before the battle at the Coldrin Hills, he was making arrangements for an uprising to be staged within Helio. Things such as where the captured soldiers were being held and how they were being guarded had been thoroughly investigated, and once they had been rescued, they would aim for Greygun.

But the two thousand of Garda’s troops stationed there were a problem. First of all, they would need to move those troops out of Helio.

“When the time comes,” Lasvius said while looking sharply at a map of Helio’s surroundings, “we will launch a full surprise attack on Helio and we should be able to draw out the enemy.”

His subordinates nodded, their faces grim and resolved.

Ha, Orba scoffed.

Considering the scale of the enemy numbers, making a surprise attack and luring them out with just three hundred soldiers wasn’t worth much. Say they succeeded in retaking Helio, would they be able to defend it against an attack from Garda’s army?

Realising that any moment now Orba was going to open his mouth to say something sarcastic, Shique had to struggle to hold him in check.

“Don’t be childish,” Shique said after the war council was over. The nearby Gilliam shrugged,

“Why say that at this point in time? He’s always been a brat.”

“No, back when he was prince, he still had a clear head. Whereas the problem with you is that your limbs are just too strong.”

“My limbs?”

“You first start by thoughtlessly sorting things out through brute strength. Unless your hands and feet are bound, not once will you use your head to think.”

Still seething with anger, Orba ignored them.

“What Lasvius said is reasonable. If we attack Greygun from the shadows at this point, Garda’s forces won’t care. Regardless of how he got the throne or what he is doing now that he has it, Greygun is currently king. If Helio loses its king again, it will be at the mercy of Garda’s army. And if that happens, every last person in the city will be as good as already sacrificed.”

“Where are you going, Orba?”

Gilliam asked as Orba suddenly stood up. “Nowhere,” he answered and walked out of the cavern. Hunger had made Gilliam irritable. Orba’s brusque attitude was about to make him sullenly stand up when,

“Wa-Wait.”

“What? You always take his side you bastard, but this time…”

“Didn’t you see his face just now? He’s thinking of something. At times like these, don’t Orba’s eyes truly make you shiver?”

Even if he was asked, Gilliam could hardly sympathise. But anyhow, he realised that fighting was a waste of energy and lowered himself back down again.

As for Orba,

“Don’t go too far,” while acknowledging the warning from the soldier on guard duty, he walked beneath the night sky.

A king?

It was as Shique said. If he cut down Greygun who had become king, other than satisfying his current desire for revenge, it would lead to nothing.

Lead to nothing… For who would it lead to nothing?

He had lost his position as prince, so for who on earth did he need to hesitate for, he wondered. But Orba now remembered the time when they passed through the gate on the way to fight.

It had been a proud scene for the soldiers, that moment when they were being seen off by the people. But it had had nothing to do with Orba himself. Helio not being his hometown, he had almost no acquaintances there. Still, among all those there, there had been two faces, those of Kay and Niels… Their eyes had been following him until he was out of sight.

The soldier seen off by his family or lover holds on to that instant as he goes to face death.

It might have been the same for Roan. Perhaps being seen off by the large crowd of villagers – including Orba himself, their mother and Alice – had made him feel just a little proud. Had he thought to himself that he would protect them?

Orba had stopped walking without realising it and stared up defiantly at the night sky. His anger hadn’t cooled down. Quite the opposite, it had reached boiling point. But it wasn’t his personal feelings towards Greygun. Greygun had betrayed and killed soldiers who had left with the same expression as Roan had, with the same pride at going to protect their city and families.

Garda was plunging the entire west into fear. Following the same path as Alice and his mother, the people were merely being toyed with by power and violence.

He could now understand why he had flared up in anger when Shique had informed him about Helio’s current situation.

It hadn’t only been anger against Greygun. More than anything, Orba was angry at himself.

Why hadn’t he been able to see through Greygun’s betrayal? He should have foreseen that there might have been a trap. If he had been able to show that it was through definite words or actions, something like that might not have happened.

Ever since defeating Oubary, he had been listless about everything and that Helio – that Kay and Niels might have landed in a fix because of it was something that he had regretted without realising it.

Tsk.

Naturally he didn’t believe that he could have turned around that battle at the Coldrins simply through his own conclusions.

He had experience of a number of battlegrounds. That Helio had been forced to rely on a man like Greygun, that Garda’s mysterious army was being allowed to run rampant meant that darkness had taken root in the very world of western Tauran.

Betrayal and strife.

As the west was now, that chain continued on. Although those from the same origin were gathered here, all they did was fight in this wide land.

Tauran has no king.

Ax Bazgan insisted that he himself was by blood the successor to the former Zer Tauran. But it was not thought that Taúlia currently had the strength needed to unify the whole land. And so the various powers all believed that they had a chance of becoming king and continued to fight. The mysterious Garda had taken advantage of that…

“Yeah.”

Unexpectedly hearing someone speak, Orba strained his ears. It seemed that the soldiers who had gone out to keep watch were on their way back. So as not to be disturbed while he was thinking, he concealed himself off to one side.

Orba hadn’t intended to listen in on their conversation, but as he heard it, he went pale under his mask.

It appeared that Lasvius’ group had summoned those from within the nomadic herders who conducted transactions with the outside for the next day and where intending to exchange weapons and food. But in order to prevent their identities and hiding place from leaking out, Lasvius planned to attack them once they had received the food.

The pride of dragoons is great indeed, Orba snickered beneath his mask. Lasvius was someone he couldn’t stomach and now that his intuition had been vindicated, he could loathe him to his heart’s content.

Orba blinked suddenly and started to indulge in a different thought.

Orba could feel something welling up within him. It no longer had anything to do with his personal feelings for Lasvius.

It wasn’t a change that he himself was conscious of, but as he looked up at the sky, Orba’s eyes were the same as when he had worn the ‘mask’ of Gil Mephius.

Late that night.

News had reached Lasvius from an ally who was keeping watch on Helio. It was not good news.

“Reinforcements for Garda’s forces?”

The report stated that reinforcements a thousand strong would soon arrive from Eimen. They were just waiting for a further five hundred rear-guard troops to arrive at Eimen. According to estimates, it would be in about a week’s time.

One thousand in reinforcements.

They had probably brought them to invade Taúlia. Even though he guessed that there would be more opportunities for moving his unit than during the deadlock, the increased numbers would no doubt also mean tighter defences in Helio.

Feeling increasingly driven into a corner, Lasvius ground his teeth.

In Taúlia was southeast of Helio. News of the defeat at the Coldrin Hills and of the fall of Helio had of course reached there as well.

“Father!” Upon hearing of it, Esmena had come flying out of the chambers in which she had locked herself and was clinging to her father Ax. “Is Bouwen… What happened to Bouwen?”

“He’s not the kind of man to kick the bucket that easily. Now calm down in case those attacks of yours flare up again.”

Despite his remonstrations to his daughter, Ax Bazgan’s own thoughts were anything but calm.

Damn Cherik, joining forces with that sorcerer.

At about the halfway point between Taúlia and Cherik, an encampment of seven hundred of the latter’s army stretched out. As they were right at their border, they couldn’t make any careless moves.

“If it comes to that, it will be a short and decisive battle. Can we tear all the way to Cherik in one go?”

“We could do that, however…” Ravan Dol had not relaxed his cautious stance. Indeed, it was because he had foreseen the possibility of Cherik joining forces with Garda that he had until now being urging his lord to act prudently. “If the enemy withdraws into the town and holds siege, unless we have our entire army, it will cost us time. Taúlia would be completely empty and if Garda’s army make their move from Helio at that time, it will fall.”

“Don’t answer so seriously and do you take me for a fool? I was just caught up in the mood.”

“Hmm, no wonder since it’s you, my lord.”

And here I thought that he’d actually had a good idea… He added the second half in an inaudible voice.

“What?” Ax said irritably. Without his war fan, he was unable to calm down. “If you want to say something, say it. I hear you’ve sent out a number of spies so do you have a plan? At this rate, we’re going to be encircled by every power in Tauran.”

“Leave it to me. My lord, you most uphold appearances and calmly remain the lord that the people and soldiers rely on.”

“Remain calm,” said Ax, half in despair. It was of course not in his nature to helplessly wait for ruin. Be it soldiers, dragons or bullets, his preparations were flawless and he had purchased a large new air carrier equipped for handling major combat. Although their existence hadn’t been made public, he had hired a number of people skilled at handling ships. When the time came, he would have soldiers loaded into the new ship to attack the enemy from behind.

Taúlia was tense with the strain of constantly wondering if war was finally at hand.

“They weren’t able to finish Bouwen off?”

A man asked upon hearing that there were no reports from the battlefield about that one person.

Raswan Bazgan.

“Well, fine. All he can do now is a die a dog’s death in the wilds he escaped to. All according to plan. Next is to not make any mistakes with the preparations here,” he muttered, turning his dark eyes to what was outside the window.

Several years ago, there had been a skirmish with a clan of nomads living in Taúlia and, without his uncle’s permission, he had captured and slaughtered about thirty of them within their own territory. Raswan had been in command during that fight, but as his numerous services had otherwise been distinguished, Ax had given him a severe reprimand then forgotten all about it. Despite the appearance of merit, there were no women within the castle to lavish praise on him as his dark eyes seemed to say that he had not carried that massacre out against his will but had done so calmly, on a whim.

And so, while the matter of the candidates to be Taúlia’s next successor had yet to be settled, there were very few voices raised in favour of Raswan.

“Our numbers are increasing. Next will be our turn. Whatever you do, don’t make any mistakes.”

“No.”

The voice that responded to Raswan’s mutter was like the threatening hiss of a snake.

Part 4

It’s unavoidable, Lasvius was filled with a grim determination, when they clash with Taúlia, that’s when we’ll make our move.

A repeat of the Coldrins was not something he felt he could accept. That time, he wasn’t intending to move before receiving detailed reports of the battle situation. And as a result, Greygun’s insurrection had occurred and they missed their chance. Although certainly, as Lasvius had not seen through the situation, had they have moved recklessly, there was the fear that they would have been annihilated.

Better that than to wait until it is too late and be driven into a corner from which we can’t escape. Better to fight and risk death than to die slowly, starved and weakened.

Lasvius was not loath to die if it were for a just cause. But to starve with their bones exposed to nothing but depressing cliff walls on all sides was not to be contemplated.

We might as well die leaving our names behind.

That would be the best for defeated soldiers. Lasvius smoothly stroked his skin. Even in this situation, he still conscientiously shaved every day using a knife. Not because he was fastidious. Not only his slanted eyes but his facial features were strangely sharp. His face was slender and his nose and lips were thin, giving it an angular impression. Lasvius hated that his face tended to look feminine. Therefore in the past, he had grown an impressive beard and flaunted his masculinity. Shaving it off had been a sort of vow to himself. Until Rogier was placed upon the throne of Helio, he would endure the disgrace and shave his beard.

Even under pain of death, I will not break this oath, Lasvius had been bent on that thought as he had shaved that morning.

Now, when he was finally ready to discuss his resolve with his men, he received a strange report. The group who had left early in the morning to trade with the nomads had returned but had not been able to attack them as Orba had his forced his way into coming along.

“You damn fools,” Lasvius eyes narrowed still further as he yelled, “you should have just killed him if he was getting in the way!”

“N-No, that…” Sweat appeared on the soldiers’ brows as they justified themselves. Ostensibly, Orba and the others hadn’t done anything and had simply accompanied them to watch. “He brought Lord Rogier with him, we couldn’t kill the nomads in front of the prince!”

Whatever his intention had been, Orba had apparently placed the prince onto a horse. And afterwards he had been in deep conversation with the nomads about something.

“What were Lord Rogier’s attendants doing! If they’re not careful, the prince might be kidnapped by the mercenaries!”

“We wouldn’t do that.”

That voice seemed to reverberate throughout the cave and when he turned around, there was the masked man. For a moment, Lasvius seemed about to give in to emotion but held himself in check.

“We are not a bunch of self-serving mercenaries who only act to suit themselves. I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from behaviour that disrupts discipline.”

“How long can you maintain discipline like that,” Orba said, completely unconcerned by Lasvius’ scowl. “If you order your men to attack treacherously, their mood will just keep getting uglier.”

“What!” This time Lasvius shouted in rage. Then his expression was wiped away and he seemed to gulp. Orba completely changed the subject.

“So it seems that reinforcements from Garda’s side will be heading to Helio.”

“So what? Do you still think that you can march into Helio and strike Greygun down?”

“No,” Orba glanced at Lasvius through his mask then looked at the nearby soldiers around whom a dangerous mood was starting to cling. “Call a council of war,” he said. Lasvius and the others looked disappointed. “I’ll be taking part as the representative for the Taúlian general, Bouwen Tedos. Sir Bouwen has of course given a blood seal.”

The place used for the council of war was inside the caves. There were only a few cracks in the roof through which narrow beams of daylight poured down. The various platoon leaders scattered around the base of the mountain, not to mention Lasvius and his close aides, were gathered there. Accordingly, Lasvius started out by talking about his intentions. He had not needed Orba to tell him to summon a council of war as he had from the start intended to do so and to convey his resolution to his men.

The commanders of the small cavalry units shed tears. One day, they would kill the usurper king Jallah and triumphantly return to Helio with Rogier as king – with nothing but that ideal to hold on to, those warriors had been able to endure to their circumstances and surroundings. And then suddenly, Jallah had died and a scoundrel like Greygun had claimed the title of king of Helio and had opened the gates to usher in Garda’s army.

This matter was no longer Helio’s problem alone. In a week’s time, the country would be filled with twice, three times the number of soldiers now stationed in Helio and they would commence their march on Taúlia.

“This is our last chance,” said Lasvius, trying to hide the quiver in his voice. “While the enemy is fighting Taúlia, our soldiers on the inside will rise up as one and occupy Helio.”

Everyone there listened, deeply impressed by Lasvius’ declaration then, one by one, they rose from their seats.

“Let’s go.”

“We will fight this holy crusade together.”

In that moment, the iron bonds that tied Lasvius’ unit together stood firm. Emotions that he could not suppress welled within him and, with ardent eyes, he was clasping each in turn by the hand when,

“As expected,” one person poured cold water over the proceedings. Orba, the only one still sitting, nodded. “You have resolve.”

Humph.

Lasvius felt disdainful of Orba. It seemed to him that despite his earlier stance that “If you order your men to attack treacherously, their mood will just keep getting uglier,” he would not be able to do otherwise than to recognise their solidarity. Looking convinced, Orba however said something strange.

“It’s just as General Bouwen said.”

“Sir Bouwen? What do you mean?”

“The general said that Sir Lasvius had whispered a secret plan to him to turn the situation around. He said that before opening your heart to your men however, you would first test the soldiers’ resolve. Indeed. As you have three hundred patriots resolute unto death, your secret plan is sure to bear results.”

“A secret plan?”

“Sir, is this true?”

Lasvius couldn’t rein in his subordinates as they all spoke in unison. And he himself had no idea what this was about.

Orba continued on serenely,

“A moment ago, Sir Lasvius said that he would wait for the enemy reinforcements and move once they had started attacking Taúlia, but in practice, that would be tantamount to your soldiers dying in vain. That Garda’s forces will swell means that the garrison at Helio will increase.”

“W-What do you mean, ‘dying in vain’?”

They looked as though cold water had been dashed on their desperate resolve and one of the captains went red in the face. Something similar could be said of Lasvius too, but in his case,

It can’t be that he is…

He felt a violent trepidation. Could it be that he was planning to divulge his own plan by pretending that it had been thought up by the commander of the unit, Lasvius himself?

“It’s fine, Orba. Continue.”

Lasvius brought his agitated men under control. A part of him was also thinking that this was interesting. Lasvius couldn’t stand Orba but mingled within him was also the thought that he was somehow different from others. And so, by way of experiment, he intended to let him speak. If what he said was ridiculous, he could always laugh and brush it aside.

Orba nodded once then,

“…At any rate, in this fight, you have to take care of things before Garda’s reinforcements arrive. Attract the attention of the enemies currently within Helio towards the outside and use that chance to have the soldiers within the city rise to action.”

What?

Lasvius’ disappointment came from the fact that this was a plan anyone could come up with. In fact, one of his men burst out laughing.

“With our numbers, not even the most drastic measures would be enough to draw the enemy outside. And the same holds true for there being an opportunity in which they would leave Helio. Bastard, you were lying about this plan of the commander’s, weren’t…”

“It’s not about our numbers. Because we won’t be moving Garda’s forces, Taúlia will.”

“What?”

“If Taúlia pushes through to the front lines, given their impressive numbers, the enemy will have to consider making their own move. Will they launch a counter-offensive through the gate or will they rely on their support, close the gate and fight a defensive war? In the former case, your soldiers within Helio will find it easy to move around, and in the latter case, if those inside light fires to provoke chaos, it will be easy for Taúlia to invade.”

“Absurd. As long as Garda’s forces don’t move, Taúlia won’t either. Cherik has struck up camp to threaten them.”

“They will move,” Orba asserted, “if we convey this plan to them. Without a doubt. Compared to Garda, Cherik is an insignificant force. If it becomes clear that Taúlia is serious in attacking Garda’s army, then they’ll be scared of being next. By remaining near Taúlia, Cherik is instead growing arrogant.”

I see…

In front of his subordinates, who were agitatedly exchanging looks, Lasvius folded his arms. Orba’s plan was certainly forcible, and a single miscalculation would render the chances of success extremely low. But Lasvius had from the start been preparing himself for a desperate fight.

This guy… interesting.

It wasn’t a plan worked out through minute calculations and was somewhat crude, but as a military man, it set his blood coursing.

“Here,” Orba placed a sheathed dagger and a letter on the damp ground, “this is a dagger proving Sir Bouwen’s position and a letter in his own handwriting. We can send this to Taúlia to urge them to go to take to the battlefield.”

“B-But,” a cavalry captain interposed. His face showed his confusion. He was starting to wonder if it might not really be a plan from his commander, Lasvius. “The road to Taúlia is blockaded. The mountain fortress that Helio holds here in the Belgana summits which is along the way to Taúlia has been turned into a temporary checkpoint. Even if we send a messenger, it will be impossible for him to avoid getting noticed.”

“It will be easy to get through the checkpoint by pretending to be an ordinary civilian. In this situation, the enemy will be more vigilant against Zerdians.”

“Are you saying that you’ll go?”

Realising Orba’s intention, the various commanders showed disapproval. He was not a comrade tied to them with bonds of steel and they didn’t trust the outsiders that were the mercenaries.

Since earlier, Orba’s detached tone had remained completely unshaken.

“I’ll become a hostage and stay here. The journey to Taúlia should take about three days, I think, so if there is no movement after those three days, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“But,”

“Fine,” the one who spoke was Lasvius. He stood up in front of the commanders who swallowed back their words. “I intend to bet on that plan. How about everyone else? You are the self-same warriors who were willing to challenge death just a while ago. If you object to this, I will think of you neither as cowards nor as traitors. Say what is on your mind.”

With him having said so, it was difficult for them to show opposition. Therefore, they agreed to wait three days. Having left the council of war, Orba went ahead along the winding path.

“I can’t stand you,” his shoulder was clapped from behind. It was Lasvius. “Everything is going the way you want, so are you satisfied?”

“Well.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that there’s someone famous beneath that mask of yours. But as I said earlier, this is a bet. A bet using your life as security.”

“I’m used to it.”

The answer and the tone of voice used were so provoking that Lasvius gave a low laugh instead. Up until now, he truly hadn’t been able to stomach him, but now he felt entirely comfortable.

“Let’s see how things go. A battle in which we face nothing but death has become just a little more interesting.”

That’s a military man for you, Lasvius’ way of speaking got on Orba’s nerves. That he couldn’t stand him was because, be it his convictions or his pride as a soldier, he closely resembled a man who had been the embodiment of chivalry and that Orba had once faced off against at Zaim Fortress.

That man even pointed a sword at his lord’s daughter for the sake of his beliefs. And this guy too, to recover Helio, he was willing to murder nomads who had nothing to do with anything. That might be a splendid attitude, but from an outsider’s perspective, it’s sickening.

Even though he thought so, or rather, because Lasvius was a soldier, Orba also thought to place trust in him. In short, because Lasvius himself had relaxed his ill will towards him, Orba calculated that it would be advantageous to do the same.

References and Translation Notes

1. ↑ Heated shot is the practice of heating round shot before firing from muzzle-loading cannons, for the purpose of setting fire to enemy warships, buildings, or equipment.