Vol 4 Chapter 7 (1/2)

Chapter 7: Lost Kingdom

Part 1

Half a day after crossing the border, Ende's troops, advancing along the side of the river through the valley, sighted Garbera's advance troops. From the top of the cliff to their right, they could see the light s.h.i.+ning off of the Garberan forces' armour and helmets. As soon as the latter saw them, they opened sporadic fire, but the distance was such that it didn't hit.

A number of airs.h.i.+ps flew out from the battles.h.i.+p Venu and chased after them. Eric however had given strict orders that they were to avoid pursuing them too far.

”Aren't they soldiers from the fortress?”

”No, or maybe knowing the Nouzens terrain, they mean to flank our side.”

”I don't care”, Eric came to a prompt decision, ”They intend to slow our advance through guerrilla warfare. But instead, they'll make us leap forward.”

Another half a day later and both armies had their first skirmish with victims.

From the hastily constructed fort at the heart of the mountains, Garbera mounted a surprise attack by an elite force. Guerrilla warfare. The Ende side however overwhelmed them by force of numbers.

”Don't worry about small damage. It's no more than breaking through a swarm of insects. Even if they suck some of our blood and sting our skin, we won't withdraw, there will be no defeat.” Eric was not going to lessen the speed of his march as he had fully understood that this was the enemy's aim.

The battlefield was not only on land but also in the sky.

The Ende side was intent on flying airs.h.i.+ps to investigate the terrain and to locate where the enemy was concealed. Of course on the Garberan side, airs.h.i.+ps also flew from the fortress. If the sky was won, given the complexity of the terrain, one side would unilaterally gain the upper hand.

There was no denying that Garbera's airs.h.i.+ps and pilots were all of high calibre. While the main unit lured Ende's airs.h.i.+ps, a detached force commenced bombing the mothers.h.i.+p Venu from its flank. However, Eric had reinforced the Venu into an empty airborne fortress. With neither soldiers nor supplies loaded, and furthermore with even mobility having been sacrificed, everything had been poured into defence until its weight was such that it could until just fly in the air.

”Don't falter. If you falter, you'll be playing into the enemy's hands!”

While explosions continued overhead, Montfort, the adjutant for Eric's main forces, exhorted in the same way as his commander. An airs.h.i.+p runner arrived with the information that an artillery corps was lying in ambush downriver of the Wendt.

”That d.a.m.n Noue. He's all hot air!”

As similar small-scale fights repeated themselves, Eric Amon Doria's confidence grew. By sporadically sending out only small units, the enemy could only retreat each time. From the outset, the relative position of the fort within the Nouzen mountains had not been particularly good. From his scouts, Eric learned that this was something even Noue Salzantes lamented. To say nothing of the general, Zenon. It was proof that things were not going well that he and his subordinate even agreed on this point.

”That fortress will fall easily.”

And so the enemy had no other choice but to slow their progress through repeated guerrilla a.s.saults. Taking advantage of that situation, they seemed to be constantly sending their military strength from Zaim to the mountain fortress, however,

”If they could just vacate the fortress and congregate at Zaim. It's because I want that that I seized Garbera by the neck.”

Eric advanced his troops on the exhausted mountain fortress.

Under a sky filled with low-hanging black clouds, the army pushed forward with greater and greater force.

On the other side, at Zaim fortress, Noue Salzantes was receiving minute reports from the mountain fortress. A path having been prepared for messengers between Zaim and Noue's fortress, there was no oversight in the information collected.

Still not?

As skilful an organiser as he was, his expression was starting to lose its composure. As previously stated, Noue considered that once the fighting began, there could be no victory. Even supposing Eric's a.s.sault could be halted at Zaim, there was nothing further to be gained and this was a war that would merely serve to deplete soldiers and resources.

If such were to come to pa.s.s, it would be a dishonour for Noue Salzantes.

You've still not come, Gil Mephius?

Noue believed that relying on others and praying for help was intrinsically useless. But now...

At that moment, a messenger entered Zaim. The soldier who leapt from the airs.h.i.+p bounded into the command room where Noue and Zenon were. What reached Noue's ears, who had half-risen in expectation of some glimmer of hope, was:

”The enemy army has approached within eyesight of the Nouzen fortress. They have struck up camp and it is likely that they will charge within the half hour!”

The report that a head-on fight could no longer be avoided had finally arrived. Zaim was engulfed in fighting spirit and fervour. In its midst, Noue alone sat looking depressed.

At that time, Eric's forces were certainly drawing near the Nouzen fortress.

With their first military gains from the war against Garbera right before their eyes, even Eric’s usually cheerless face shone.

However, this was Noue Salzantes' trap. After repeated small-scale attacks and numerous retreats, the enemy was drawn to their bosom. It was a strategy he had made use of once before at Apta. As part of the information warfare that Noue prided himself on, he had broadcast reports that that fortress would fall easily.

As soon as the enemy s.h.i.+p Venu commenced bombardment of the fort, there appeared cannons that had been camouflaged within the crevices of the steep cliffs that rose on either side. In a moment, the incessant roar of artillery fire drowned out the battle cries from Ende army. Faced with an unexpectedly fierce bombardment, the Venu temporarily retreated. In its place, airs.h.i.+ps dove one-by-one to intervene, but a larger than usual number of enemy s.h.i.+ps launched in counterattack from the fortress.

Under the decorative circlet, Prince Eric's face became grave. But he resolutely gave Montfort the order to have the ground troops rush forward.

”Seize the fort in the time that enemy fire is concentrated on the sky!”

The Venu's defences would be enough to single-handedly occupy the enemy's air force for a while. He intended to gain control on land during that interval.

Eric's decision was the correct one for an invading army that valued speed, however his opponent Noue had thoroughly turned the complicated terrain to his advantage. All along the path towards the fort, holes had been covered with soft sand.

The tactics were rudimentary but it was an effective strategy on this narrow lie of land. As Ende's soldiers and horses came tumbling down one after another, the Garberan troops lying in ambush swooped in to attack. Forming an orderly line along an elevated position of the fort's front façade, the artillery corps opened fire in turn.

Blood spurted from all over. Montfort's troops' formation fell apart and, as though they were crops being harvested, they were beheaded at the neck, struck through the chest with spears or took lead bullets to the temple and died. Montfort decided to have his now disorganised unit halt and, with cover from their artillery, retreat for the time being.

d.a.m.n.

Looking up at from the main forces, Eric mentally clicked his tongue. It was Ende's side rather that had been trapped into aerial combat to create an opportunity. By bombarding the wars.h.i.+p from the ground and allowing the fighting between airs.h.i.+ps to intensify, Garbera had lured the ground troops away.

d.a.m.n you, Noue. Did you actually place the main force here?

Although they had been allowed to believe that this fortress was a diversion merely meant to slow them down, could it be that Garbera had judged that this might be the scene of a decisive battle?

”My lord, what should we do?” A Dairan warrior at Eric's side asked. His face was flushed with ardour. His meaning was should the main force connect with Montfort's troop? Understanding that, Eric shook his head.

”We'll only be dragged into the enemy's stratagem and bogged down. Send a messenger! Mobilise Belmor.”

”Yes, sir.”

This decision of Eric's was also absolutely justified. There was nothing about it that could be criticised. However, Noue had undoubtedly provoked that decision from the enemy general.

As to what at the Garberan commander Zans was doing at that time inside the Nouzen fortress, he was preparing for withdrawal. Following Noue's detailed instructions, Zans had made full use of traps and with only a small force had for a time met the enemy on equal terms. But that time was short. There were truly very few soldiers at the fort. Only the airs.h.i.+ps were there in large numbers as about seventy percent of Zaim’s force had been deployed at there, but this too was part of the plan to dull Eric’s caution.

”Two enemy airs.h.i.+ps are leaving the battlefield.”

Said a soldier who was monitoring the situation with a pair of binoculars. Zans nodded,

”The detached force will be coming. Hasten the preparations for evacuation. But so that they don't suspect anything, pretend the s.h.i.+ps have exhausted their ether supply and are returning here for replenishment, then destroy the interior of this fort.”

He saw to it that his orders were carried out thoroughly.

What Noue Salzantes was being vigilant about was Ende's detached force – in other words, the group led by Belmor that was stationed near the border with Mephius. He had looked to Mephius to provide a restraint against them, but Noue's thoughts on that matter had changed. From having talked directly with Mephius' crown prince, he had sensed that there was a secret agreement between the prince's father Guhl Mephius and Ende.

That unit will probably cross the border and attack Zaim by a route that Garbera can't obstruct.

Once the enemy entered Mephian territory, their movements would be hard to read even for Noue.

Or perhaps they would contrive to suddenly appear from the south and attempt a pincer attack again Zaim. Furthermore, Noue hadn't spoken of this to anyone. Suggesting the possibility that the enemy might enter Mephian territory would cause unrest among the soldiers at Zaim and they would lose concentration. None were very astute: although Mephius and Ende might be in secret communication, Noue believed that there was no chance of Mephius itself baring its fangs, but the majority of the soldiers would surely think so. As the saying went, suspicions wreak havoc on the battlefield. If they believed that even Mephius had turned to the enemy, morale at Zaim would collapse.

”Therefore there is a twofold reason for having to first of all s.h.i.+ft that detached unit.”

Noue had lured the main force in this way and was going to drag Belmor's unit into the fray by means of a fierce battle. His aim with this was to have the main force and the detached unit join up. The force led by Zans was to withdraw to Zaim and to attract the united Ende army there.

Zaim fortress was solid. It would easily repel a charge by infantry and cavalry, and although the airs.h.i.+p forces were not ideally arranged, if the war was fought in the sky, Garbera still had a slight edge. Even if reinforcements from their country were delayed, they should easily be able to hold the siege for a month.

Hearing the reports that had been pouring in incessantly from the battlefield, Zaim fortress' soldiers were in high spirits.

”Good.” Noue looked as composed as ever. He regretted that his expectations of Mephius had been off the mark, and it was a humiliation for one who considered himself to be a resourceful commander to have to undertake a siege war the likes of which anyone could come up with, but since it had already begun, there was no helping it. ”The knights of the Order of Bronze will provide support for Zans' withdrawal. Shoot with guns and arrows and only use airs.h.i.+ps to create a diversion. Do not get deeply embroiled in fighting.”

For now, the traps and stratagems that he had prepared were working.

As far as Noue was concerned, there had from the start been no need for showy military gains in this defensive battle. Since this wasn't a war into which Ende itself had poured its full strength, he had to take the wind out of Eric's sails from the start.

However,

”He gave Zans the order to pull out?” His horse standing at the ready by the castle gate, Zenon Owell furrowed his brow. ”What is he doing? This is a rare opportunity. If we push our main force out of here, we will easily be able to take Eric's head.”

Zenon was not as concerned about Ende's detached unit as Noue was. Furthermore, he didn't place much faith in the strategies Noue dreamt up.

A man who only draws up strategies in his head.

If say his retainers or companions were to fight to their utmost, Zenon rewarded them with the highest prizes and praise. He was a commander who cared about his subordinates. But he was prejudiced in believing that a person who had not experienced actual combat was in no position to talk about actual combat.

”War is a living creature. The situation changes from one moment to the next. To be able or not to sense that directly on the battlefield can be said to be the main thing that determines a commander's ability. Even though I acknowledge Noue's knowledge and resourcefulness, his strategies are still merely worked out before the fight. Right now, I myself know the current situation best.”

And Zenon judged that this was too good an opportunity to let slip.

Although they were in the extreme positions of enemies, it could be said that Zenon and Eric were alike. More than their personalities, it was in their way of thinking about war that they resembled each other.

Zenon Owell himself along with his Knights of the Order of the Tiger left through the castle gate. As the fighting would take place along narrow valley paths, he only took two hundred able subordinates with him.

Upon receiving the urgent report, Noue was horrified.

Is this, as could be expected, his ever coolly-controlled features distorted into a grimace. However, the object of his resentment wasn't only the prince. Is this another flaw in my way of doing things?

He himself had caused the unrest in Zaim by keeping his strategy a secret even from Zenon.

Noue was not a general but he had taken pride in being superior to any general in his experience and achievements up to this point in time. However, a battle was a living creature and Noue couldn't grasp anything about a human who took part in it.

Right now, Noue regretted not having made the effort to build 'human' trust.

Part 2

Zenon Owell had charged out roaring a war-cry. The galloping horses drilled holes in the ground and kicked up clouds of dust from the force of their hooves.

Finally, the Nouzen fortress came into view. Along with it came the sight of Ende's main force which had taken up position slightly to the left of the fort, on the bank of the Wendt.

”Charge!”

Zenon had vigorously taken command but just then, Belmor's detached force drew near from the flank.

”Chaaarge!”

Encouraging his men just as Zenon had, Belmor galloped down the relatively gentle slope to his left. They plunged down. At their head was also the cruiser-cla.s.s dragonstone s.h.i.+p Regin. With the lead party raising an impressive cloud of dust, they struggled against each other and a great many horses and men were driven into the river with no distinction between friend and foe.

Dammit.

Zenon had no time for regrets. In a flash, they had been dragged into a mêlée. A battle-ax seemed about to fly towards him and his beloved horse came close to being impaled on a spear.

”You!”

While skilfully twisting atop his mount, Zenon wielded his sword left and right in counterattack. As the clash of steel resounded, spurts of blood rose in the air. The heads of Ende soldiers went flying. The battle situation around Garbera's second prince was ferocious, and it was as though a gaping wide circle had been carved out around him alone. Ende's soldiers could no longer attack him outright.

But there was a limit to individual fighting power.

Because of the mêlée, Zans' troops that had been withdrawing from the decoy fortress were prevented from leaving.

”That suit of armour – it looks like the enemy general, Garbera's prince.” Eric yelled vigorously from where his troops were positioned. His finely chiselled face burst into a smile, ”Montfort, pull to the flank and strike at the fortress. We'll prevent the enemy from joining up. And then – everyone, go. We'll capture the prince!”

In the end, Ende also sent out its main force.

”May our feet house Aba, the spirit of the wind.”

”May our hearts rage like the flames of Villar!”

As the cavalry set off with the force of loosed arrows, the army corps followed behind them, raising a forest of spears.

Zenon's army was caught in an attack from both sides.

Ende's cruiser Regin joined in bombarding the fort and in so doing neutralised its firepower. With no backup, Zenon was forced into a hard fight. As it was a confused mêlée, neither guns nor arrows could be used and each could only swing the weapons they held with all their might. War cries, gasps of pain, then screams and war cries again. All at once, the valley turned into a scene of carnage.

”The prince, where is the prince?”

”Eei, clear the way!”

The hundred knights of the Order of Bronze hurriedly rushed over. Originally the troop had been tasked with covering Zans' withdrawal. They had avoided getting too deeply involved in fighting as per Noue's instructions, but of course, they put those aside when faced with the second prince being in danger.

Drawing their swords or affixing their spears under their arms, they came to a.s.sist Zenon's group. They were unable to reverse Ende's momentum however. The Garberans who had been expecting a siege war at Zaim did not after all have numbers exceeding those of Ende.

Zenon cut through a spearhead and sent it flying then, even as he was turning around, he beheaded a soldier who was drawing up to him from behind.

”You despicable Endean curs. On top of breaking its agreement, did Mephius also join with you to let you through?” Zenon's hatred was also turned towards Mephius, which should have been their ally. The detached force which should have been stationed along the border had moved, which meant that no reinforcements from Mephius would come. ”This is why those Mephian savages...”

Before he could continue to yell any further, a spear struck his horse in the neck and Zenon fell from it. For the soldiers of Ende, there could be no greater achievement. With a cry, they surged towards him.

”Prince!”

Within the Knights of the Order of the Tiger, several chosen to be the prince's bodyguards took up position to protect him. One had his head split open, one was struck a smiting blow to the chest and as he fell, Zenon somehow or another regained his stance. As he stopped a blow from an enemy sword, tears gradually filled his eyes. The full force of his hatred was turned not against Ende, nor against Mephius, but against himself.

For his part, Noue had gathered the soldiers remaining in Zaim fortress and was about to send them out with a captain of the Order of the Knights of Bronze as their commander. It was of course not Noue's real intention to throw soldiers into the midst of a confused, free-for-all mêlée.

To send all the soldiers out from our advantageous position at Zaim...

Although he couldn't help having regrets, the battle would be lost if they lost the prince. This was no time for hesitation.

If it came to a head-on-collision, their inferior numbers were a disadvantage. Of the soldiers remaining at Zaim, Noue was only taking two hundred and he had further had all the remaining airs.h.i.+ps hastily loaded into the air carriers. The surrounding terrain had been investigated when the Nouzen fortress was being built. By going around the fortress from behind, they would be poised to strike at the enemy from the side.

But even so, that isn't much consolation.

The enemy also had air carriers. As a result, how effective would their air force power actually be? Vexed and irritated, Noue oversaw while the hasty preparations advanced. Indeed, all he could do was oversee. He himself wasn't a soldier. However right now, every single soldier was essential.

If only he himself could hold a sword – for the first time in his life that thought came to him.

You fool. Here where Ryucown was defeated, is your ingenuity also going to be for naught?

For a moment, his almond-shaped eyes lit up with tragic resignation.

”Lord Salzantes!”

His horse gasping for breath, a new messenger had arrived before Zaim's castle gate. Seeing his astounded expression, Noue wondered pessimistically what new failure had occurred.

”A Mephian s.h.i.+p!”

”What?”

”A force led by Prince Gil Mephius has appeared from the west!”

”Impossible!”

It felt as though Belmor Plutos' temples vibrated from the war-cry that erupted from behind. As soon as it appeared over the riverbank, the low-flying Mephian cruiser discharged a group of warriors sitting astride horses and small dragons. They galloped in a straight line and tore left and right through the battle formation of Belmor's troops.

”Whoo!”

The Garberan knight who swung his sword next to Zenon cheered. He had suffered an injury to the head and his blond hair was dyed crimson, but his expression was bright.

”Your Highness, Mephian reinforcements. That person over there is Mephius' Crown Prince!”

”What did you say?”

His eyes starting, at that moment, Zenon Owell probably received an even greater shock than Belmor. When the surrounding Garberan forces saw them, they regained vigour. At the head of the reinforcements, wearing a light silver breastplate, was Gil Mephius. Riding a Tengo, he drove off his enemies left and right with a dragon lance while behind him, armed respectively with double swords and a longsword, s.h.i.+que and Pas.h.i.+r dealt the deathblow to soldiers.

Faced with the Mephian forces they had been certain would not come, Belmor's unit was for a moment on the verge of being routed.

However, from within the mêlée, Eric's right-hand man, Belmor, carefully observed the situation. As soon as the enemy s.h.i.+p had lowered that single troop, it rose in the air again. In other words, the soldiers now rus.h.i.+ng in – who appeared to number about a hundred – looked to be their entire military strength.

”The enemies are few!” Belmor called out as, from atop his horse, he broke the sword of a Garberan knight who had lunged towards him. ”Return to battle formation. Capture the Mephian prince's head!”

Although they had at first been caught off guard by the surprise attack, the soldiers of Ende had experienced countless battles in Dairan. As Belmor's angry voice washed over them, they immediately arranged themselves in a file ready to intercept Mephius.

Then, as they were about to rush into that iron-like formation, Prince Gil quickly waved his hand.

”What?”

With a promptness that left Belmor astounded, the dragons and horses turned around and the unit suddenly withdrew. They had been on the verge of intercepting them; for Ende's soldiers, it was an irresistible invitation.

”W-Woah, woah, woooaah!”

With war cries characteristic of Dairan warriors, they plunged forward towards the Mephian prince.

In fact however, just before letting out the soldiers, the Mephian cruiser had dropped off long-range cannons. They had let them down on to the cliff top along with two medium-sized Yunion dragons. Naturally that the pair of dragons could be relied on was all down to Hou Ran's wiles.

Just as he had earlier waved his hands, Gil this time raised them to the sky. It looked as though Prince Gil had, by some magic ritual, called forth lightning. With the bombardment from the sky, people and horses were turned into shredded meat and the pieces flew about along with the dirt and sand.

Belmor worked his throat dry trying to stop his allies. But they didn't stop. Because they hadn't known the second attack would befall them.

We let ourselves be lured and now we can't do anything as they use cannons.

Belmor bit his lips until they bled. If they forced another mêlée, should they strike at Mephius at their front or at Garbera in their rear – before he had time to make that decision, the echo of horses' hooves closed up on them from behind. It was the Garberan troop led by Zenon Owell.

And when Gil once again had his subordinates swiftly turn around, Belmor's troop was caught in a two-sided onslaught. Belmor had been cautious about the cannons for a moment too long, and that moment became the gap that allowed him to be attacked.

Realising the danger Belmor was in, the air cruiser Regin was returning from the fortress but the Mephian war s.h.i.+p was already moving to intercept it. Surrounded by a forest of swords and spears drawn by friends and foes, Belmor was unable to either advance or retreat.

But –

”You...”

In this inescapable situation, Belmor, the beard covering his face dyed in the blood of those he had slain, turned and glared at all 360 degrees around him.

Although young, he was a courageous commander with much experience behind him. And when that experienced commander's eyes suddenly fixed themselves on a single point, his hand instantly went to his waist and he pulled out a handgun.

Fixed in his line of sight was silver armour.

As though by miracle, the crowd divided left and right. As Belmor pulled the trigger, Gil Mephius was thrown off of the Tengo.

Guh – as he hit the ground, Orba let out a small cry of pain.

The Tengo appeared to have been hit in the neck and the small dragon lay near Orba's side, dying as it bled out. Before he had time to grasp what was happening, a group filled with killing intent swooped down from above. He was going to rise to meet the enemy, but he had no sword. It seemed he had dropped it when he fell from the dragon.

d.a.m.n.

Clicking his tongue, he rolled on the ground. Sparks flew from where a spear rammed into the s.p.a.ce where his head had been just a moment earlier.

”Gil Mephius!”

Belmor bellowed and galloped his horse with the speed of a sudden clap of thunder. A spearhead cut through the very wind above Orba's head.

Orba avoided the blow by letting his body fall backwards, but Belmor instantly turned his horse around and charged a second time. His subordinates also rushed in left and right. Swords and axes were raised above their heads.

At that moment Orba's blood – which normally boiled all the hotter and fiercer in desperate situations – ran cold.

As to why, no one, not even the person himself, could have given a reason. Could it be that he had lost the almost obsessive idea that he would cling to life at all cost? The strength to move arms and legs if so much as the slightest chance of survival was dangled before them; the strength, if both arms and legs were gone, to seize any chance even with their teeth and not let it slip; right then, his grasp on that had slackened.

If there was one clear factor that determined whether a soldier lived or died on the battlefield, it was surely that one. Say there was a difference in skill or that one wasn't blessed with powerful allies, that one factor surpa.s.sed a difference in skill, drew forth good luck and could turn any ally into a hero fearless of death.

Orba suddenly turned and avoided an axe. He swerved his head and just barely managed to dodge another sword but from on top of his galloping horse, Belmor jabbed a spear straight down at him.

He had no time to even swerve to one side.

”Orba!”

Was it s.h.i.+que or was it Gowen who cried out?

Gatchin – sparks flew as steel met steel.

When Orba looked up, a large shadowy silhouette had come galloping from a different direction from Belmor's; from atop his horse, Pas.h.i.+r had repelled Belmor's spear.

”Not enough spirit.”

As Pas.h.i.+r's angry voice crashed over his head, Orba came to a sudden decision.

I'm going back.

Indeed, even Orba, who no longer had a place where he belonged within Mephius, had one person and one person only whom he had to return for and convey a message to.

Which means,

He couldn't die.

I can't die yet.

With even more soldiers surging towards him, he jumped forward and slashed them, slashed them and jumped back.

As he threw himself body and soul into the mêlée, as though to let the flickering embers of his rage blaze once again, Orba continued repeating to himself I can't die.

Belmor was losing his calm. Nor did he have time to burn in the regret of having lost the perfect opportunity. The sword of the horse-riding enemy he faced was ferocious. Even though he had more than enough confidence in the strength of his own arm, as he lunged with his spear, before he was half way through his momentum, it was knocked clear into the sky and he was aware that he was slowly growing desperate.

As that was happening, he caught sight from over his enemy's shoulder of an approaching force flying Garbera's flag.