Vol 6 Chapter 1 (1/2)

Part 1

Esmena, the daughter of Taúlia’s governor-general Ax Bazgan, was under a canopy that was set up the on the rooftop of the hall.

Dawn was close at hand.

“Princess, won’t you be returning soon?”

The young lady’s maid accompanying her asked while looking as though she was stifling her yawns. It was no wonder. Upon suddenly awakening up at midnight, her mistress had immediately left her room. Thinking that it might be one of her usual fits, the ladies’ maids had hurriedly chased after her without even changing their clothes. “I can’t sleep. I will go for a breath of fresh air,” Esmena had said, seeming rather puzzled at their fl.u.s.tered state. In the end, the youngest of her ladies’ maids had accompanied her.

The inner quarters and the palace were connected by a long corridor that was guarded night and day. As had been the custom since long ago, the paths to the inner palace other than the corridor were blocked by the moat, in exchange for which, one could proceed through the corridor into the palace and directly to the throne room. As a relic from when the inner quarters had still been barred to men, when women came to the castle, they tried as much as possible to remain out of sight.

On the rooftop, as well Esmena and the lady's maid, a single guard on night watch stood in each of the parapets on either side.

Wispy clouds drifted across the sky. The stars that were disappearing behind the hazy light of dawn twinkled as though gasping for breath.

Esmena's eyes were fixed on the western direction. At this time, her father would be hurrying on horseback further and further to the west of Taúlia. It was around dusk yesterday that the interior of the castle had suddenly flurried into activity. Soldiers in full armour as well as horses and dragons lined up in rows outside the castle. That war was about to break out – and furthermore one in which would decide the fate of their House – was apparent to all. It had come as a complete surprise to Esmena.

According to what her father had said, the fleetest units would first rush west for a day and night without pause. Straddling his horse, Ax had embraced his wife Jaina and his daughter Esmena to his left and right, and had simply said,

“I'll be back soon.”

It seemed that the preparations for organising the troops had been proceeding in secret until just then. Even her mother Jaina had probably not heard of them.

“We will be awaiting your return, my lord,” Jaina bowed, her bearing exactly the same as it always was whenever she saw Ax off to the battle front. “I will look forward to performing a victory dance for you, my lord.”

“Yeah,” Ax grinned as put on his helmet. He too wore the same expression as usual. He turned to smile at Esmena also, then pulled on his reins and departed at the head of the troops.

Later, when it was already past midnight, the infantry corps and artillerymen had also lined up and left the castle. The units had been separated so as to make it difficult for the enemy to suspect their movements until such a time as the advance party was already upon them.

The enemy.

That ominous word flashed through Esmena's mind. She had learned after her father's departure that Cherik had set up camp near the border to the west of Taúlia. It was said that Cherik's aim was to contain them. Because of that, Taúlia had been unable to help the northern Helio, which had apparently been occupied by Garda's forces.

“With the cavalry's speed, they will easily reach Cherik's camp before daybreak,” was what the soldiers who had stayed behind at the castle had said when she asked them about it.

“Will it be war?”

“According to Strategist Ravan, it probably won't go as far as war. For the time being, Cherik should be putting it's all into defence. Meanwhile, the lord's vanguard unit will prevent things from turning into the siege war that Cherik expects.”

Esmena softly bit her lower lip. She knew the name of Garda. The terrifying sorcerer who often appeared in her nightmares and tormented her called himself none other than Garda. However, her encounter with the crown prince of Mephius, Gil and then the notification of his death had driven it from her memory.

Currently, the majority of the troops had left and the number of soldiers remaining within Taúlia did not total three hundred. Esmena had not had the slightest idea that the situation had grown so urgent.

A deep sigh escaped from her rose-coloured lips.

She didn't know when it had started, but right then, Esmena felt like an awfully small, utterly ignorant, worthless human being. The thought of how truly empty she was filled her with fear and tore her sensitive heart to shreds.

It was rare for Esmena Bazgan to take a step outside of this city-state of Taúlia. It could well be said that for the most part, she did not even understand Taúlia itself. As a result, and even if she thought about it, she couldn't grasp the first clue as to what was the full extent of the situation with Cherik, what Taúlia's chances of victory were, or what she, as the daughter of the Bazgan House, should do in this castle now that its lord was absent and that most of its military might had left.

n.o.body tells me anything. They were laughing at me behind my back. It was as good as saying that even if that princess believes that she is living a contented life, she is just a doll whose head and heart are empty.

Even when she lay between her sheets, she truly couldn't sleep. Instead of worrying about this and that while in her snug and comfortable bed, she had wanted to go outside where she would at least be able to breathe the same air as her father while praying to the Dragon G.o.ds for his good fortune in war.

Esmena was famed as the greatest beauty in Taúlia, and indeed, of the west. She had her eyes closed and her appearance as she let the wind caress her soft cheeks was reminiscent of the sculpted relief widely depicted throughout Tauran of the ancient priestess-princess Meuru offering herself to the Dragon G.o.ds. Unware of her thoughts, the lady’s maid, who was younger than her, was admiring her mistress’ beautiful face when,

“What are you doing? At this hour.”

Hearing a voice raised half in reprimand, Esmena and the lady’s maid turned around, startled. There was Raswan Bazgan, whom the soldiers on duty were greeting with a salute. He was the first-born son of Toún Bazgan, who was Governor-General Ax’s younger brother and the man responsible for the Defence Corps. In other words, Raswan was Esmena’s cousin.

“You too, Lord Raswan. Why are you…?”

“I’m helping Father,” perhaps because it was somewhat self-mocking, Raswan’s smile turned cruel. “Now that His Lords.h.i.+p is no longer present, we must maintain a strict guard at all times. You too are important, Princess. You should go back to your room now.”

“Thank you. Then I shall do so.”

Although her wording and manner were courteous, Esmena had always found it hard to deal with her cousin, who never listened to what anyone had to say. Just as she was about to turn back,

“Princess,” Raswan rudely approached her at a distance so close she wanted to scream out loud.

“Wh-What is it?”

As Esmena asked that, opening her eyes even wider than usual, Raswan showed unusual hesitation under the sharply penetrating light in those eyes.

“No… The situation is as you know. Take care of yourself.”

“Thank you.”

Esmena smiled, however Raswan did not put more distance between them as one would at the end of a conversation. At the same time, neither did he say anything. Esmena felt it was strange as they had never had a close relations.h.i.+p, and so she was the one to open the distance between them then, with bow, she left the roof. The lady’s maid hurried after her.

“Lord Raswan looked as though he wished to talk a little longer.”

“It’s not that I felt against it,” Esmena put a hand to her cheek, “however, there is no denying that Raswan is at heart a warrior and if we remain too long in the same place, the atmosphere is likely to become unbearably mannish.”

“Hmm. But, Princess, is your father not also a true-born Taúlian warrior? And even though General Bouwen, with whom the princess has a good relations.h.i.+p, is usually a very gentle person, at heart he is clearly a rough warrior.” “Is that so? And yet, even now I can’t imagine Bouwen fighting with a sword in hand.”

“But if anything, I think that Lord Raswan has the more refined manner and that he does not project such a mannish atmosphere.”

And his appearance is also good, she added in a low voice. Esmena laughed softly at her honest way of speaking. Esmena did not have anything like friends close to her in age, but since binding herself in a vow of sisterhood with Princess Ineli in Apta and also, although it was unsure whether Esmena herself realised this, since encountering the insolent masked mercenary after Prince Gil’s death, her connection to those near had grown deeper than before.

Raswan, who had been left behind on the roof, clicked his tongue. The sun was gradually rising and it was the time when the figures of people could start to be seen in the fields around the outer walls.

Originally, Raswan had also been supposed to rush to Cherik at the head of the dragoon unit. Ax had selected five hundred dragon riders to entrust him with. However, Raswan himself had made a request.

“This time, I would help Father. Since it is my hope that sooner or later, I too will shoulder the important duty of defending the country.”

Raswan’s appearance resembled that of a Garberan knight and he displayed a n.o.bleman’s figure, but he was known to fight like a demon on the battlefield. Therefore, although it seemed slightly surprising to Ax, this request had another meaning. By saying that he would succeed Toún Bazgan, he was also in effect declaring that he would not take part in the struggle for succession to become Taúlia’s governor-general.

Recognising that admirable intention, Ax left Raswan behind as commander of Taúlia’s garrison. Naturally, he never imagined that a viper was building its nest inside the heart of this nephew who was so splendidly growing to adulthood.

A lone shadow quietly stole up to Raswan, who was looking irritability in the direction Esmena had left in.

“Lord Raswan.”

With a start, he turned to look and saw a short, aged man. A very ordinary man dressed in the garb of a civil servant and with nothing about him that attracted attention. Nonetheless, Raswan appeared nervous and, under the pretence of checking that the guards standing in the parapets on either side of them were sufficiently far away, he averted his eyes.

“Now that things are coming to a head, it’s best that you don’t do anything out of the usual. The majority of the soldiers left in the castle are not our allies. Although no one here has good intuition.”

“I know,” Raswan’s expression turned bitterer. “The girl who is the direct descendant of the governor-general’s lineage is needed in order to govern Taúlia peacefully. Since she will be involved, regrettably I feel that we cannot cut her life down and so I came to check on the situation for a bit.” He felt as though the old man’s eyes could see inside his heart. Having worked up his courage, he had spoken in a deliberately severe tone of voice.

“There is very little time before we rise to action. You must issue a notice to the soldiers.”

In preparation for this day, Raswan had come to an understanding with the commanding officers and high-placed retainers who were dissatisfied with the alliance between Ax and Mephius. Among the soldiers employed by Toún Bazgan, there were also those who had indicated their support. With regards to the essential piece that was his father however, he acted in secret. Raswan knew his father’s timid nature. Risking having the plan come to light because of a failed attempt at persuasion was a folly he would not commit. He had already settled his resolve. And even if it was his own father –

If he stands in my way, I will cut him down.

Nevertheless, Raswan had not revealed the whole plan to those who had joined him. In other words, he had to formally notify the soldiers that, utilising the invasion by Garda’s army, he intended to stage the uprising on this very day.

“I will leave the timing to you.”

“Yes,” the old man nodded his narrow chin. Information about the entire remote western region seemed to be accessible to him without his stirring from Taúlia. Ordinarily, such a thing would be completely impossible to believe, but Raswan had had many a chance to verify it. It was because he believed in his power in the first place that Raswan had decided to stage an armed uprising within Taúlia. There was no room for doubt now.

“Those who do not feel easy with peace with Mephius are pivotal. Naturally, once we obtain Taúlia, next will be war with Mephius. We mustn’t make any mistakes in our preparations in that regards either.”

“Leave it to me.”

“You,” Raswan’s sharp eyes suddenly kindled with curiosity, “you can ‘see’ the west, but what about Mephius? Can you see what is actually going on there?”

“To a certain extent. The va.s.sals grow increasingly dissatisfied at the current emperor’s conspicuous and opinionated self-righteousness. But at the same time, no one knows what kind of treatment to expect if they oppose the emperor, and so the mood is somewhat heavy. In addition, now that the crown prince has died, it seems that there is internal dissent about what position to adopt with regards to his fiancée, the Garberan princess.”

“Which means that there will be plenty of opportunities to take advantage of.”

“Indeed,” both the old man’s expression and tone of voice remained the same as ever.

Raswan took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, then dropped his gaze to the slumbering streets of Taúlia below. He was young and vigorous, and also proud of being descended from the Bazgan House. But because of the peace that had come from the war with Mephius, that pride –

Has been s.n.a.t.c.hed away.

He was vexed. Raswan’s youth did not allow him to forgive. Both his violent blood that was always in search of an outlet and the advice of the old man currently by his side spurred him into action.

Raswan trembled.

Not from fear. When he read of Zer Tauran in history books, when he called to mind how Taúlia must pursue that ideal in the future, when he saw the city of Taúlia before his eyes as he did now – a certain thought would always come to Raswan’s mind.

Always, ever since childhood. That thought having finally taken form, he felt that it was actually within reach, and Raswan trembled.

Part 2

At roughly the same time as Raswan was burning with ambition in Taúlia, Moldorf, the Red Dragon of Kadyne, was spurring his horse on with furious energy. The troops following him numbered approximately three thousand. They were Garda’s forces that had departed from Helio. As they charged on raising thick clouds of dust, they were of course unaware that even then, fires were rising up within Helio. They urged their horses and dragons onwards, solely intent on swooping down on Taúlia’s main force as it headed towards Cherik.

There could be no way for the enemy to be aware their movements. Even for Moldorf, it was incomprehensible how the sorcerer from Garda’s army so thoroughly understood Taúlia’s movements. Given their numbers, they would reap Ax’s head in instant. And then,

If we take Ax’s head,

Those who were being held hostage in the various cities would all be released, was what the sorcerer had said. It was only a verbal promise. It was uncertain how far it could be trusted, but from the very start, Moldorf and the others had obeyed because they were being threatened with having their family and friends killed. They could only move the army as they were told to do.

Coming from the north of Cherik, their march had brought them to a position that directly overlooked Lake Soma to their right. For a moment, a column of lit fires brilliantly illuminated the lake that lay beneath the shadows of the night. This was to inform Cherik that a.s.sistance was on its way. Everything would go to waste if that city became frightened of Taúlia’s large army and hurried to surrender. The signal was to tell them that their forces and Cherik’s would contrive a pincer attack.

However, when they were almost at their destination, Moldorf noticed the scouting party by the side of the road. They were in position earlier than expected. Halting his horse, he listened to their report.

“Ho,” he gave a short grunt and looked towards the forest that lay ahead of them.

They were somewhat less than ten kilometres from Cherik. Apparently, at the centre of the forest was a reservoir which drew water from Lake Soma for the peripheral estates. As the s.p.a.ce between the trees was narrow, it was also intended to slow down large enemy armies. Coming from the east, Taúlia’s troops had gone around to the south of the forest and had currently set up camp with the woods at their backs.

Fast.

Ideally, Moldorf had wanted to attack the enemy before they had completed their battle formation. The troops were to have been divided in two, with one unit ambus.h.i.+ng the enemy from the south while the other attacked from the north. He had thought that they had more than enough time but,

That’s Ax for you, he moves well.

It seemed that the fleet-footed mounted units had marched first, that they had set up their formation and that they planned to wait for those following behind. They were also keeping a strict lookout, so the reconnoitring party was not easily able to approach either. To the rear of the troop headquarters, five hundred soldiers kept watch on the road from Taúlia. There was no oversight there either. Although they had spent the night on a gruelling march, even the movements of the lowest-ranking soldiers were visibly energetic. Moldorf was astounded.

They truly stood united. Such was the skill of Ax Bazgan and of the far-famed strategist Ravan Dol.

The time that Ax spent waiting here for those following behind also gave Cherik a reprieve. Moldorf’s a.s.sessment was that if Cherik realised that it was at a disadvantage and surrendered, Taúlia intended to capture it without waiting to join up with the troops following behind.

It’s a drastic strategy. I can only say that it’s worthy of the inheritor of the Bazgan name.

Contrary to the feeling he had of wanting to praise the enemy, Moldorf held unspeakable fear and revulsion towards the sorcerer who was currently supposed to be his ally. Everything was going their way. And Moldorf couldn’t see anything amusing about the fact that whatever the stratagem, readiness or determination, everything was completely powerless when facing the sorcerer.

At any rate, knowing about the reinforcements here, Cherik would soon – probably around dawn – send their troops and make a sortie. And Moldorf would take that opportunity to attack Taúlia’s army from the rear.

“The king of Cherik is Yamka the Second, isn’t he?”

“Yes?” The adjutant by Moldorf’ side spoke up.

The army was a disjointed a.s.sembly both in terms of origin and composition, but Moldorf had gathered units from Kadyne around himself. He had known them long enough to remember the face of each and every soldier. After a moment, the adjutant nodded.

“He is young king. Still only about thirty or so.”

“Was the fool dreaming?”

The adjutant didn’t reply at Moldorf’s wretched-sounding voice. Cherik had sinned by a.s.sociating themselves with Garda. Unlike Kadyne, which had been stormed by Garda’s forces then had the lives of its people and princess taken as collateral to ensure obedience, in Cherik’s case, it was thought that King Yamka had cooperated with the sorcerer of his own accord.

Even though Cherik was comparatively rich thanks to the blessings of Lake Soma, it was still a small country after all. The one known as Garda might well be able to rewrite the power relations within the West at a single stroke, and the young king must have seen in that a way of realising his ambitions for Cherik.

Yamka must not be aware of what to expect from that sorcerer. Of the plight that Kadyne, Lakekish, Fugrum and Eimen are in.

Moldorf’s country, Kadyne, had succ.u.mbed almost exactly one month before Eimen fell. The officers and soldiers had not been negligent. As at the time, Lakekish and Fugrum in the north had already been captured, they had from the start recognised that Garda’s army would be no easy opponent. All the officers including Moldorf had exerted themselves to thoroughly reinforcing the city’s defence. Not even the tiniest ant could have pa.s.sed through the formations arrayed along Kadyne’s outer walls.

And yet Kadyne fell in no time at all. Moldorf had been confident that they could repel every charge the enemy launched at them, but that was because he hadn’t imagined for a second that the enemy was inside the gates.

And furthermore, that enemy –

“Moldorf.”

While Moldorf had been deeply absorbed in his thoughts, a man on horseback had come up to him. In the style of a general from Lakekish, he wore a helmet with horns shaped like swords. With his narrow face and slanted eyes, his features were typically Zerdian.

“Why have you halted? Shouldn’t we attack?”

“I’m waiting for Cherik to make a move.”

“How relaxed of you. According to the scouts, there are at most five hundred guarding their escape route around the forest. If we overwhelm them in one go, we can strike at the main force.”

Can we overwhelm them? Moldorf wondered to himself. Thinking about it, there was the enemy’s high morale and the skill that he had guessed at just a moment earlier, while they on their part were no more than ill-a.s.sorted medley.

There was a risk that if they met with unexpected difficulties, the enemy’s main force might move and this surprise attack would lose its effect. In order to protect their path of retreat, troops might come rus.h.i.+ng from the main force and a great many enemy soldiers would put up a desperate fight. After all, Ax Bazgan was at that encampment.

On the other hand, if we make a large detour around those five hundred and advance towards the Taúlians, we might get slammed into by those behind.

“No,” coming to a decision, Moldorf gave a broad shake of his head, “Even if we cut off their retreat, it’s still better to wait for Cherik to make a move. Unless the enemy’s attention is diverted, there is still a risk that they might withdraw. After all, we have to settle it with this battle. There’s also the worry that if the enemy draws us into Taúlia, their ally Mephius might b.u.t.t in.”

“Hum. But if we wait here quietly, those following behind them might get here.”

“Let them join up. If Cherik a.s.sails them at the same time, numbers won’t be a problem.”

“Have you lost your nerve, Moldorf? This is a golden opportunity, we could easily…”

“I was appointed commander-in-chief. If you can’t follow me, then that’s the same as disagreeing with Garda.”

The man from Lakekish went pale. After which, he scowled at Moldorf with narrowed eyes exactly as though he were looking at Garda himself and turned his horse around. He went back to his subordinates. He must have said something sarcastic as the soldiers from Lakekish turned that way and laughed.

“b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.”

“It’s fine,” Moldorf stopped the adjutant who was bristling with anger.

Moldorf’s nature was by no means patient. But he felt that he could understand that commander’s zeal, as well as his fear. Everyone there was deeply afraid of Garda. They had been robbed of their home. No one knew where the sorcerer’s eyes and ears lay.

I too, have I also changed? No, it was impossible not to change. Even now, I fear neither swords nor bullets, but that sorcerer’s ways are just too strange.

They were bundled together under the name of “Garda’s army”, but needless to say, their ranks had been swollen by absorbing soldiers during Garda’s ineluctable march forward. There were those from the mountain tribes that were rarely seen in central Tauran, soldiers from Lakekish, the first city-state that Garda had targeted, and soldiers from the cities of Fugrum, Eimen and Kadyne, cities that had likewise fallen.

When it came to fighting, they brandished their swords on Garda’s orders and threw themselves into dangerous situations, but when the fighting was done, and despite the tight military discipline, their morale was naturally anything but high. At the time of Helio’s fall, there were said to have been many who joined the Red Hawks mercenaries in looting the townspeople.

Even in our world of warring states, that didn’t happen.

Although they might constantly be fighting, Zerdians had a strong sense of camaraderie. It couldn’t be said that there had absolutely never been pillaging or ma.s.sacres, but it was well understood that if the troops lost their discipline, it would bring misfortune to the townspeople. Time and time again, Moldorf had witnessed the rise and fall of countries, but he had always believed in strict control over himself and his companions.

If even I, who preached the ways of a warrior to my younger brother, were to fall into lawlessness, I would no longer have been able to face either my brother or my home country.

And so, when he fought for Kadyne, he had sternly warned his subordinates against such actions. Put differently, not even Moldorf’s long military experience was enough to pull together an army that had swollen up to this extent.

Our numbers are high. And to save our birthplaces and our families, our ardour is fierce. But this army is fragile. Such was Moldorf’s genuine a.s.sessment. Which was why he couldn’t authorise an a.s.sault as things were. They would be able to crush Taúlia’s army only if they performed a pincer attack together with Cherik.

Through the forest ahead, lights within the encampment could be seen to be moving. A large number of voices could be heard raised in shouts. Cherik had launched their offensive.

Cherik’s army had sallied from the gate – having received that message, Taúlia naturally positioned themselves to counter-attack. Moldorf could feel a great many presences rustling through the forest.

Good. With this, the enemy will also move forward. Now is the time to cut off their retreat.

Behind the man known as the Red Dragon of Kadyne, the troops had also all at once taken on a tense air. A number of commanders lined up their horses on either side of Moldorf but he deliberately forced them to stand down with a wave of his hand.

Many among them were famous. Their expressions turned sullen.

“Those on that side will go around the forest and strike at the five hundred soldiers. We, the Kadyne troops, will wait for the right moment to join up with Cherik, break through the forest and act as vanguard,” Moldorf announced flatly.

“Wha-” the commander from Lakekish who had laughed at him a little while earlier seemed about to cut him off but,

“Do you want to say that I’m s.n.a.t.c.hing the glory? Then tell me, where’s the glory in a fight like this?”

“…”

“Threatened by the sorcerer, forced to wield our swords as he tells us to on this kind of battlefield, how can there be honour or glory or even victory? Even if we defeat Ax himself, just what kind of fame is there to be had? Rather, we’ll be reviled by posterity as the sorcerer’s puppets.”