Vol 5 Chapter 7 (1/2)

Chapter 7: The Chosen

Part 1

Helio's King Greygun was nervously pacing around a room in a tower overlooking the streets and castle ramparts.

Perhaps it was because the soldiers had so suddenly rushed out in columns but a crowd of people had appeared on the streets. Their faces were worn haggard from fear and exhaustion, and the clothes they wore were threadbare and stained.

Since receiving the report that flames had risen in the Belgana Summits, Greygun had armed himself and his equipment clanked as he walked.

”My dear lord, can I be of help to you?” Marilène had made her way there. She had slipped a woollen mantle over her nightclothes.

”You haven't gone to sleep?”

”How could I sleep amidst such an uproar? Is there some cause for concern?”

”It has nothing to do with you.”

Greygun thrust her away. Marilène's figure beneath the thin nightclothes was so bewitching that he averted his eyes.

This woman doesn't care about anything except protecting herself, the thought flitted across his mind. Regardless of whether there was a rebellion within the country or a terrifying invader from outside it, Marilène's beauty and enigmatic charm would strangely arouse a man's l.u.s.t for conquest and her safety would be guaranteed. She would surely always stand beside a conqueror.

Even if I die, you will be smiling next to the next ruler. Having forced Marilène to become his queen, oddly, Greygun was learning anger and jealousy.

He had however been irritated for a while now and it was naturally not against Marilène. Nor was it because he was alarmed about Taúlia's army. While he didn't know how many troops Taúlia had sent their way, they certainly shouldn't be very numerous since the main force was headed to invade Cherik. It would be easy for Helio to fend them off by limiting themselves to a defensive battle. Therefore Greygun's irritation was turned neither towards Taúlia nor towards Marilène, but towards Garda's army.

Look at that filthy populace. Those are my people? This is my kingdom? He thought as one side of his mouth twisted into a distorted smile. He had always been a hard-hearted man towards others but he thought of the people of Helio as belonging to him. Because of that, he and his subordinates didn't think twice about seizing money and goods from the city, a.s.saulting women and killing the men who defied them. Nevertheless, that was no more than gathering the fruits of their labour and once he became king, Greygun had no intention of letting that situation last for long.

But Garda said that he wants ten hostages every other day, the women and children as well as the elderly are kept shut up as hostages and every man is made to become a soldier. The country can't last like this.

Practically no trading with the outside had been carried out since Garda had gained control of the northern part of Tauran. He simply exploited the regions he had dominated through warfare. He produced nothing. He only s.n.a.t.c.hed away by force what he found there and left each of the lands barren.

Before Greygun had taken the throne, Helio had been ripped apart by civil war and even within the castle, it couldn't be said that enough food remained stored. If Taúlia was to lead a military a.s.sault or if another power was to extend its grasp towards them, they might not be able to withstand a long siege. Just then,

”Commander Greygun!”

A soldier saluted from the room's entrance.

Greygun was about to thunder his usual ”Call me 'Your Majesty',” but had his attention caught by the nervousness and panic in the soldier's face.

”What is it?”

”F-Fires have broken out all around the city.”

Greygun didn't ask anything. Instead, his usually somewhat foppishly manicured eyebrows shot up. Not only flames but a riot had broken out in the main street. The ones leading the townspeople were probably the soldiers who had sworn loyalty to Helio's royal family. Which meant that as they freed the hostages one by one, more and more of the citizens would join the uprising.

”That d.a.m.n Taúlia has stooped to working with the rats that crept in,” Greygun shouted, laying bare his true nature as a mercenary commander. ”Suppress them. And as an example to others, kill every citizen who joined the uprising!”

”Yes Sir!” The soldier shouted. As though she had been waiting for that, Marilène said,

”It seems that this will be a long night.” Even at such a time, her smile was bewitching. ”Take care of yourself. I will take my leave.” Lifting the hem of her mantle, Marilène left the tower room.

Greygun viciously watched her back disappear. Even when she heard the order given to kill the people of her own country, her expression didn't change in the slightest.

Maybe she really is a witch from Cherik. Greygun had colluded with Cherik's king Yamka II to take Helio, but he now recognised from the bottom of his heart that women were terrifying creatures.

At this moment though, he did not think that the current situation required his urgent attention. His expression changed however as reports came in one after another.

”Your Majesty”

”Commander!”

Riots had broken out not only in the main street but throughout the city. He ordered soldiers to be sent to suppress the situation from the second report.

”d.a.m.n it!” Greygun roared like a wild beast. ”Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds deliberately staggered the uprisings,” he realised that their aim was to scatter the soldiers. ”Shut the castle gate tight! Concentrate the soldiers in front of it. Right, gather only the soldiers from my unit and have them strengthen the defence.”

”But Commander, that's...” He started to say that would mean not moving at a time when Taúlia's army was advancing towards them but,

”How many times do I have to tell you not to call me 'Commander'!” Greygun angrily interrupted him. He too realised it all too well. ”If Garda's army and Cherik catch Taúlia's main forces in a pincer attack, reinforcements will soon arrive. Hurry up and do as I say.”

After the cowering soldier had left practically fleeing, Greygun breathed noisily, his shoulders heaving.

”This is my kingdom,” he muttered as if to convince himself in that empty room. ”I obtained it, it's my kingdom. I won't hand them over to anybody. Not the people, not the treasures, not Marilène...”

From outside the window, he heard the roar of the crowd's angry voice. Were they frightened or did they raise their voice in encouragement at taking Helio back, or was it that they were already tussling with the soldiers? The city that had been as quiet as a tomb ever since it fell to Garda's army was once again filled with a wild energy from fighting and killing whose heat seemed fan the flames that were rising up.

”Commander.”

Another soldier had rushed in. Clicking his tongue, Greygun s.h.i.+fted nothing but his gaze towards him. ”What is it this time? It doesn't matter if another riot broke out. Strengthen the defence here and...”

”No,” the soldier wore his helmet low over his eyes as he answered courteously. In his hand, he carried a short spear. ”I'm paying you this visit to take your life, Commander.”

”What!”

Before the echo of Greygun's shout had time to die out, pale sparks scattered before his eyes. He had hastily unsheathed his sword to parry the spear that the soldier had thrust forward.

”B-b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” Greygun glared at his opponent as, to the sound of metal-on-metal, he used his strength to push back. ”Who are you? You stole that Red Hawks armour, didn't you?”

”You don't know my face?”

Greygun's physical strength was far from being average but his opponent's didn't fall short either. Their faces came close together.

”A cur who doesn't know my face isn't fit to be Helio's king. It was fated that things would end up like this. I'll take Helio's throne back from you so carve the name of the man who is about to kill you into your memory. I'm the commander of Helio's dragoons, Lasvius!”

”Lasvius. So you were still alive, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d?”

Greygun pushed at his blade with all his might then suddenly kicked Lasvius in the knee. As his opponent's stance collapsed, he brought his sword down to his neck but was repelled by a swift movement from the spear. During that time, Orba and the others, still dressed in the Red Hawks' equipment, were securing the entrance to the tower. In that way, they would able to get the better of any other soldiers who came along.

”His Majesty has stated that no one is to go through. On his orders, you're to go and help strengthen the castle's defence.”

”B-But,” a broken arrow was piercing the shoulder of a soldier who sought an audience to give his report, ”the people have begun to surround the castle!”

”Of course, since it's a siege war. Stall for time. Don't do anything rash, got it? If you provoke them, they might even attack with fire.”

Each time, the soldiers who came up to them were turned away.

”Ah!” A platoon leader who had been arguing with Orba in front of the gate let out a strange cry when he saw his face. He had held suspicions and had gone to check. ”You again. Let me pa.s.s. I'll take the blame so you've no reason to mind, right?”

He was planning to break through forcibly. Orba thought that if it came to a fight, he could always brandish the spear he was carrying under his arm and use the pole end to hit the platoon leader hard across the head to knock him out.

”I do mind. I've been told not to let anyone through.”

”Th-That man...”

”He isn't a Red Hawk. The commander is in danger. Get them!”

As the mercenaries surged towards the centre, Orba's group threw their spears. Their pursuants steps faltered, allowing them to race into the tower. Each drew the sword at his waist and, choosing the narrowest opssible parts of the staircase, they ambushed their enemies from above. The sound of sword striking sword rang out on either side of the enclosed s.p.a.ce.

On the floor above, Greygun and Lasvius were locked in fierce combat. When Lasvius attacked with his spear and brought it down, Greygun pushed him back with a stroke of his blade. The clash of steel rang out once more and the sparks glowed red then burned blue.

The struggle for supremacy continued. At first glance, Lasvius with his long-handled spear had the advantage but because the room was not so very wide, it caused a lag in his switching from attack to defence. At which point Greygun attacked with enough energy to slice through wind.

Both of their armours were damaged and dented, and they were covered in superficial wounds. Both were breathing raggedly. Lasvius had thought that he would be able to settle the likes of Greygun with a single jab of his spear but he had to recognise that he had underestimated him.

Petty tricks won't cut it.

The tip of his spearhead swooshed forward, tearing the wall hangings. Narrowly avoiding it, Greygun deflected the spear and returned a blow in the same breath. Seeing a chance to win, Lasvius boldly stepped forward. He sacrificed his armoured left arm to catch the sword and in one short stroke gave a jab with his spear.

”Argh!”

”Ugh!”

Both cried out in pain and staggered back. The bone in Lasvius' left arm had broken while the spearhead had penetrated Greygun's right eye. As Lasvius suddenly, forcefully yanked back his right arm, the tip of the spear pulled with it a white lump that was trailings threads of blood.

”B-b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”

Each felt an implacable resentment towards the other.

Greygun was a man whose life had been even more contemptible than his birth. And so, as though pursuing a mirage, he had sought to obtain a kingdom that would be his alone. Even if he died and became a ghost, he would probably keep clinging to it.

Lasvius on the other hand was a man who had endured in the name of upholding righteousness.

Greygun wordlessly swung his sword. His spear under his arm, Lasvius charged bodily at his enemy with all his strength.

Fresh blood splattered across the wall.

Of the two bodies that fell in a heap, one slumped to his knees then fell backwards, after which it didn't move a single eyelash.

Part 2

From the parlour of the women's quarters, even if Marilène hadn't been gazing towards the outside she would still have seen it. Several areas within the city were wrapped in the colour of flames but as they had been lit for the calculated purpose of luring Greygun's soldiers away, it was unlikely that there would be too much damage. ”Your Majesty,” from the shadow of a pillar, a lady's maid had turned around. A group of several people had formed and they were looking enquiringly at the queen, their faces pale. Marilène smiled as ever.

”Please go,” she said. ”The frenzied soldiers might harm you too. Wait until the excitement dies down. Do not come near here for the time being, is that clear?”

”But...”

”Even if I flee, I will stand out wherever I am. Come now, we don't have time to discuss it. This is the last order you will receive from me. Go.”

In a corner of the women's quarters, there was a secret pa.s.sage that led out from the castle. Instead of using it herself, the queen gave priority to having her attendant ladies' maids leave.

They could already hear the rough voices of soldiers.

”Capture Marilène!”

”We'll hang that woman who sold her country time and time again.”

Even upon hearing such horrifying shouts, Marilène's expression didn't change. She looked exactly as though she were about to face the new day as she did every morning, leisurely pa.s.sing her time with a cup of the black tea she loved in her hand.

The strength of the released soldiers and people of Helio far exceeded the unity of the Red Hawks mercenaries. The few dozens who had first lit the fires and raised the riots had almost all been killed by the mercenaries who had quickly been dispatched to suppress them. After that however, the mostly uninjured mercenaries protecting the castle's surroundings had faltered.

His Highness Prince Rogier Helio is alive.

When the Helian soldiers who had invaded the city spread that information, it was as though they had tossed firewood onto the fire smouldering within the people. If Helio's royal family was restored, then they could once more return to the peaceful days they had known before. And if in order for that to happen some things had to be removed, they were prepared to do so with all their might and at the risk of their own lives.

Before long, the figure of a person appeared at the top of a tower within the castle.

The crowd murmured.

When that figure raised high the spear he held in his right hand, it marked the end of the long night as the light of dawn dimly appeared.

Lasvius.

Pierced at the tip of the spear held up by Helio's commander of the dragoons was Greygun's head.

In an instant, the road was filled with noise and cheers after which the mercenaries, who had lost their will to fight and who were scrambling to be the first to escape, were chased down and pelted with stones, those who lost their balance were straddled and beaten - it was a murderous one-sided retribution. The crowd's joy swelled but far from being appeased, the fire that smouldered within them burned even fiercer.

”Drag out that treacherous queen!”

”We'll cut her head off right here!”

Looking for a fresh victim, the crowd led the way into the women's quarters.

Meanwhile, Orba had descended the tower and was about to exit its hall. It went without saying that he had removed the Red Hawks helmet and replaced it with his usual mask. Those found by that seething, murderous crowd would probably be tortured to death without being able to utter a single excuse.

He had no choice but to ignore the populace's actions. He still had things he needed to do. Naturally Garda's forces were not in Taúlia and he had heard that they had gone to Cherik. Therefore, they had to organise the released soldiers as well as the main body of Lasvius' unit that would soon be arriving into reinforcements for Taùlia.

Garda's army moved exactly as though they had predicted all of Taúlia's movements. He shelved that mystery for now. As he was leaving the hall,

”You there,” a deep voice hailed him. When he turned to look, Hardross Helio stood before him.

There was a soldier accompanying him on either side. Bodyguards directly attached to the royal family, no doubt. Lasvius' men must have secretly informed Hardross about the time of the uprising as they were fully armed and had their visors down.

”I came across you before in the audience hall. I thought you looked strange but you were one of Lasvius' subordinates disguised as a mercenary?”

”...”

Hardross had apparently mistaken Orba for one of the spies Lasvius had sent to Helio. As explaining things over would be bothersome, Orba just lowered his head and muttered ”Yes”.

”The plan for a series of fights was splendid. Is Rogier safe?”

”He is in good health.”

”I see.” The old man closed his eyes as though overcome by a flood of emotions but the next moment said something surprising:

”The merit for that goes to the queen.”

”To... Lady Marilène?”

”It was Marilène who allowed that child to escape,” the old man spoke in a subdued voice. When King Elargon had been slain in battle and Helio was in the midst of a civil war, Jallah had discovered Rogier hiding with his mother in an underground storehouse. Jallah was on the side of the rebellion but it was not in his character to take the initiative in the fighting. He had been half coerced by his comrades and, as a result of weighting his personal safety against his loyalty to Helio's royal family, he had joined them with his feet dragging.

And so, Marilène had approached Jallah. Earnestly begging him for protection, she had indirectly shared her wisdom with him.

”She is a clever woman,” Hardross, the former king, smiled. ”She probably used Jallah to inveigle herself near each of the rebels and lure them into destroying themselves over the crown.”

It was Marilène who had allowed Rogier to escape. She had asked her ladies' maids to entrust him into the care of Lasvius, who still resisted and fought the rebels within the city.

”Afterwards, Jallah reaped the benefits of a war he didn't fight. Marilène planned to revive Helio by becoming his queen since he was easy to control.”

Why was it that at a time like this, Hardross told the truth about the queen to someone like Orba? Orba couldn't understand it. Maybe anyone would have done. The old man had too much locked up inside him.