Rakuin no Monshou - Book 9: Epilogue

Having entered Birac, Orba did not personally see Shique until after he had shown the soldiers his gratitude for their work and had given Rogue and Odyne instructions about a temporary defence plan. Once the soldiers who had returned to the battlefield to collect the remains of the war dead had brought them to Birac, Shique was discovered amongst them.

When his corpse was carried before him, Orba watched in silence for a moment.

They were in the’ front courtyard of the castle, which was surrounded by a wall. The sun was already beginning to set and, with torches starting to be lit all around the garden, Shique’s feminine face stood out, a contrast of light and shadows.

Orba took a step closer and knelt beside this swordsman who had been laid in rest in the garden.

“When, was he killed?” he asked.

One of the soldiers knelt down behind the crown prince and, facing his back, he explained –

“When I last saw him, he was engaged in single combat with General Zaas Sidious. That was probably how it happened.”

That man was Zaas? Orba called to mind the figure of the warrior that Shique had drawn away. He was young, but it was true that he had that certain air of dignity which could only come from leading an army. And that man –

“He drew him away all that time, by himself?”

There was neither praise nor condemnation for Shique’s actions in Orba’s matter-of-fact words. But to the soldier, who had been part of the charge, it sounded like he himself was being blamed. “I am deeply sorry,” he prostrated himself.

“No,” Orba shook his head. “I was the one who left him to die. He did well. You could say that it was because he held Zaas back that we were able to obtain victory.”

For the time being, the three generals Folker, Zaas and Yuriah were being kept in confinement in the castle. Most of their soldiers had already been released. Although, of course, only after their ships, guns, and cannons had been seized.

“Have Zaas –”

Called here, Orba started to say, but morosely fell silent instead. Having him called would not make any difference. He could not drag him before Shique’s corpse, accuse him and yell, “You did this!”, then raise his sword vengefully. Zaas Sidious had fought for victory and, in so doing, he had killed an enemy soldier. That was all.

Orba remained in that same position for a short while.

“Isn’t that a good face he’s got there?” A voice rose up from behind him. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw the giant Gilliam looking down at Shique’s face with deep interest.

Just as he had said, Shique’s expression was strangely calm. The face that he had always been so proud of, and that he would not allow anyone to injure was, even at the last, free of any obvious wounds; and he looked as though he would get up any moment now with a, “I was just kidding, Orba. Did I get you worried for a bit?” and start laughing.

However, Shique’s eyes were closed forever, colour would never return to his pale, faintly parted lips, nor would his teasing voice ever come from them again.

Gilliam continued, “That’s the face of someone who chose for himself the right place to die. Prince, someone as exalted as a prince might not be able to understand, but it isn’t possible for gladiators to have that kind of expression when they die.”

“…”

“It’s only when they finally die that they can be released from hell, and even then, they probably drag their regrets to the other world. You freed us, Prince, but going from being a slave to being free doesn’t mean being able to choose where to live. It means being able to decide where to die, without being forced to do so by anyone else. Shique found it. Without resenting anyone or hating anyone.”

Whatever it was and whoever it was that Gilliam had intended to have hear that, he said nothing more and turned his giant back to leave.

Orba’s eyes returned once more to Shique. If you looked only at his face, he really did look as though he was simply sleeping. Orba, who had always shaken Shique off when he got too close, now took him in his arms and held his head to his chest.

The contours of Birac’s ramparts shone brilliantly in the setting sun. But before long, those glimmering outlines were replaced by deep shadows and the surroundings were entirely plunged into darkness.

“If the prince orders it,” spoke Rogue, who had come to find him after the sun had set, “we will hold a hero’s grand funeral for him. If Your Highness wishes for it, we can even hold a sky funeral, as used for us Winged Dragon officers.”

“No,” Orba finally stood up. An hour had passed since he had first knelt at Shique’s side.

He walked around among the other corpses which had been carried nearby. “He was no more than a single swordsman. A great many others also died in this battle. If we mourn so lavishly for Shique, how much time and money would it all take?”

“Aye.”

“The same goes for me.”

“The same?”

“Since Father treats me as already dead, going by how His Majesty the Emperor rates me, I am currently no one. If I die, cut off my head, throw it to the side of the road, do whatever you please.”

“I understand,” Rogue spoke as though his throat were clogging up. “However, if Your Highness were to die before this is over, both Odyne and this senile old fool would already have lost our lives. I am ready to obey any of your orders, but that request alone I have no mind to fulfil.”

What the old general was saying was that – if you die, it will be at the last. That was only natural, since if Gil died, then their goal, their cause, their future, their honour – everything would already be lost to them.

It was not only Shique; be it Rogue or Odyne, from now on, if a sword or a bullet were to approach Gil Mephius, they would give themselves as his shield and would fall as corpses at Orba’s feet.

When I die – Orba had his soldiers carry Shique to the communal burial ground. While he saw him off for the last time, he murmured in his heart – when I die, it will have to be at the summit of that mountain of corpses.

Gilliam had said it. For a slave, being freed meant being able to choose their own death.

Which meant that Orba had yet to be freed.

No, he who should have been released once, had come back of his own accord to be bound by invisible chains.

I can’t choose how I die anymore. I can’t just die at my own convenience anymore.

“I really did something stupid.”

While Orba muttered to no one in particular, his gaze happened to fall to where some of the corpses were lined up.

A boyish face covered in pockmarks.

The rifleman who was the same age as Roan, the one Orba had spoken to. A member of Odyne’s division had just stooped down to take the gun from the hand which would no longer move. Not because he was organising mementos, but because he was tearing from the dead the weapons and armour that still seemed usable.

Instinctively, Orba was about to go and stop him.

In the end however, he neither called out to the soldier nor ran up to him. The soldier who had wrested the gun away knelt beside the next corpse and started stripping off its armour. Tears were trailing down his withered-looking cheeks.

A few minutes later, Orba entered Birac castle. The lord of Birac, Fedom Aulin, immediately came rushing up to him, his breath ragged. His face bright red, he offered his greetings to the Imperial Crown Prince.

“It’s been a while,” Orba returned his smile and answered composedly. “Fortunately, you were willing to listen to my call. As expected, there are none more concerned about this country than Lord Fedom Aulin.”

Fedom was, of course, the one who had tightly closed Birac’s gates and obstructed Folker’s retreat. Almost immediately after he had entered Apta, Orba had sent his page, Dinn, to Birac. The letter he had entrusted him with had contained the name ‘Orba’, which got Fedom to move. After all, Fedom himself was at the origin of Orba becoming the crown prince’s body-double.

Fedom now thought up some pretext or another and invited Orba to his chambers. And once it was just the two of them,

“You, you bastard,” Fedom drew up to him so forcefully that he was almost grasping him by the neck. His somewhat overly-plump cheeks were quivering. “What’s the meaning of this? You were running away up until now, pretending to be dead? I did not give you permission for such selfish behaviour and…”

“Right, selfish behaviour is no longer permitted. But that goes for both of us.”

“W-What?”

“Let’s speak frankly, Lord Aulin. After I faked my own death, the emperor announced Gil Mephius’ death to the whole world. Which means that the real Gil is no longer in this world. You knew about it and you were plotting to use me, not as a body-double but as Gil himself, in order to seize the real power in Mephius. Am I wrong?”

“T-That’s…”

“You and I now share the same fate. I’ve already been prepared for this for a long time. Fedom, now that things have come to this, don’t go believing that you can choose your own death.”

Rather than being disadvantaged by the distance between them, Orba tossed it aside in front of Fedom.

He resembles him. Unable to say another word, Fedom experienced that thought for the second time. Although their facial features were absolutely identical, it was not an impression that he would ever have had regarding the real Gil Mephius.

The smile that Orba now wore on his slightly pale face was exactly the same as Emperor Guhl Mephius’.