Volume 10 Chapter 6 (1/2)

Chapter 6: Trigger[edit]

Part 1[edit]

The amount of guards that escorted Princess Vileena on her return to Solon was all but excessive. They seemed to fear that since Salamand was still in Mephian territory, he might mount a surprise attack and s.n.a.t.c.h her away.

They had stopped several times to replenish their ether supply, but she had hardly been allowed to leave the s.h.i.+p. The princess however had not made a single complaint. She remained enshrined in her designated seat, her expression tranquil.

Theresia, her lady’s maid, was equally calm and composed. When she got tired of their voyage by air, she promptly nodded off to sleep.

Once Vileena had made sure that Theresia was asleep, she would occasionally reach for a medallion that hung from a chain at her neck and which was usually hidden beneath her clothes. It was the one she had given to Orba as an amulet when he had been taking part in the gladiatorial tournament. Through various twists and turns, it had since returned to her.

After hearing that Prince Gil and Orba had returned alive, she had intended to return it at some point, but had taken it with her when she had decided to go to Solon.

Every time she unconsciously reached out to touch it however, she thought – it’s a lucky charm, I should have left it with Orba. He was, after all, someone who might at any time head out to a life-threatening battle. She started to hate her own changes of heart.

It’s not as though we can never meet again. I’ll give it to him next time – she decided.

At last, without encountering any difficulty, they arrived in Solon. By then, it was the time when evening shadows were deepening. The audience with the emperor would be the next morning.

As before, Vileena did not say anything in particular. She did not even appear to pay any attention to the court ladies maids who whispered together when they pa.s.sed by one another as she made her way to the chambers which she had previously been given. She ate the meal that was brought to her then went to bed before the night grew any later.

The next morning, Vileena Owell faced Guhl Mephius from across the long flight of stairs to the throne.

It had been about two months since she had requested an audience with the emperor to inform him that she would go to Nedain. The people attending this audience however did not have the same amused atmosphere as at that time. Among those present, there were those whose expressions were nervous and strained; those who remained expressionless so as not to appear overly inquisitive; and those who looked at the princess as though she were an eyesore, or else with hatred in their gaze.

Currently, the majority opinion was to view her not as an honoured guest from another land, but as the foreign princess who was supporting the deceitful scoundrel who claimed to be Crown Prince Gil, the impostor who had caused their country to break in half. And then there was the matter of Salamand. There was still that rumour that he had conspired with the princess to bring chaos to Mephius.

“It is a great joy to me to be able to see you again after so long,” Vileena bowed her head.

Certainly, she did a good job of feigning calm, but there was a lot this fourteen-year-old princess would need to say from here on.

For a start, she would have to explain how she had gone to Apta and then to the west after having claimed that she intended to spend a week in Nedain.

There was also the issue of that man who called himself “Gil Mephius” and who had led an armed force into combat against Mephius’ army not far from Apta.

And then she would need to explain her connection to the Garberan troops who had violated the national border.

Vileena, however, did not say a single word about any of these issues.

Neither did Guhl, the emperor of Mephius.

Contrary to expectations, instead of adopting the abrupt tone of an interrogation, he maintained his usual posture, chin resting on his hand, and asked:

“And, what business brings you here especially, Princess? I believe you yourself requested this audience?”

“Yes.”

Seeing her nod in a.s.sent, the people in attendance exchanged glances surrept.i.tiously. They had all thought that it was the emperor who had summoned her. Since it was the princess who had personally requested the audience, normally one would expect her to want to explain herself or apologise. What she said however was –

“There is something that I wish to request of Your Majesty.”

A wordless commotion went around the audience chamber.

What she had said was simply beyond impudent. In the first place, just who was it who, having said “I have a request” and obtaining permission to go to Nedain, had then turned traitor? Despite having exchanged a promise with the emperor, she had gone so far as to steal a s.h.i.+p and fly off to Apta. That alone was worthy of capital punishment, but she had then travelled west and betrayed confidential information about Mephius’ plans for invasion.

The emperor had still not granted Nabarl Metti – who had informed him of this – a chance to redeem himself, nor had even allowed him to attend court. If he could hear her, Nabarl would surely be gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth. As for Guhl –

“Oh?” As was to be expected, not even he could generously nod in agreement at a time like this. “I believe I have already granted a request of yours, Princess. What more could you want? Even for you, Princess, I will not be able to grant a wish for me to surrender this seat to the deceiving fool who claims to be my son,” he chuckled.

The retainers felt chilled from those harsh words, and not one of them dared to smile.

The princess was at a loss. Her eyes lowered, she seemed to be examining her own feet for inspiration.

The silence stretched on for a while.

Just when it seemed that the princess known for her dauntlessness had no more moves to play…

“Your promise,” Princess Vileena spoke again. “Do you remember your promise?”

Guhl’s heavy eyelids blinked a few times. The princess continued –

“It was during Mephius’ Founding Festival, at the time of the gladiatorial tournament,” she added.

Naturally, n.o.body had any idea what she was talking about. They were convinced that the princess must be babbling out of desperation. However –

“Ohh,” Guhl’s shoulders heaved, “Now that you mention it, during the semi-finals, I made a bet with you, Princess, didn’t I? I wagered on a criminal who had once been acclaimed as a hero, while you bet on that former gladiator, Orba. Now what was the result again?”

“Orba won.”

The faces gathered in the audience chamber all wore expressions of confusion and surprise. Not a single person there had known about this bet between the emperor and the foreign princess. What surprised them even more was that the emperor had not only specifically asked what the outcome had been when it should have gone without saying, but that he had let the princess tell him. Did he do so for the sake of letting his retainers know what the bet had been about, and to indicate that he was prepared to receive her request?

“Your Majesty promised to grant me whatever I wished for.”

“I remember,” the emperor nodded.

He might have been expected to be enjoying this conversation, yet his expression remained sullen. Nevertheless, he was leaning forward a little.

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows. “Since you have expressly brought this up, have you found something that you want? I certainly said that I would offer you anything you liked. As I said earlier though, I will not vacate this seat.”

“I thank you for your graciousness,” the princess for her part was all but expressionless.

It seemed reasonable enough but, after all, she must be feeling nervous.

Could it be…

The retainers once again exchanged significant glances with each other.

The princess couldn’t be asking for a reconciliation with the Impostor Crown Prince, could she?

Impossible. It was a bet made in fun, she won’t ask for something that huge. She can’t be that much of a child.

Maybe she wants to ask His Majesty to let her return to Garbera?

Oh! If that’s what it is, then it might be possible…

The princess raised her eyes.

“Then, although it is shameless of me, I have something to ask of Your Majesty.”

“Speak.”

“I, Vileena Owell, request soldiers.”

Of all the entertaining imperial audiences that had occurred in recent times, this scene, at which all the courtiers present were – momentarily – staring at wide-eyed, might well have been the most interesting spectacle of them all.

“Please lend me about a hundred soldiers.”

“Oh,” Guhl Mephius was unperturbed. However, he did not give the impression that he was merely humouring a child’s nonsense either. “A hundred soldiers… And what would you do with them?”

“If you would grant me just that many of Mephius’ mighty warriors, I would expel a fool from Mephius’ territory.”

“And this fool is?”

“Salamand Fogel.”

Vileena neither faltered nor hesitated.

Everyone there was utterly dumbfounded.

This princess, she… was saying that on the basis of a verbal promise with the emperor, she would borrow a hundred soldiers and with them, would expel Salamand from the territory he had trespa.s.sed into.

She had come from Garbera to marry into Mephius, so there had still been some scope for sympathy when she had lost her fiancé. It was, no doubt, for that reason that the emperor had allowed her to go to Nedain. However, her subsequent actions had been intolerable. And now, she was making an even more absurd claim.

The shoulders of some of the people there were quivering. Others, having recovered from their momentary surprise, were sneering. Most, however, simply held their breath and peered inquiringly at the emperor’s expression.

“How truly interesting.”

All those present suddenly looked tense. The emperor lifted his chin from his hand.

“Asking for a hundred soldiers is truly like you, Princess. Do you know this Salamand person?”

“Neither by face nor by name,” the princess shook her head.

At that point, the emperor smiled.

“Then can you send Salamand away, Princess?”

“That person insolently made use of my name to force his way into Mephius. If I move out brandis.h.i.+ng Mephius’ flag, that person will lose his claim to a cause.”

“What you say is understandable. It is indeed... however, I cannot allow a princess entrusted in our care by a foreign country to undertake something so dangerous. And if the rumour sprang up that I had tearfully begged a fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl to drive out a foreign enemy, even I would not be able hold my head high as emperor.”

“That is also one of my objectives.”

“Oh?”

“That was a joke. However, Your Majesty, if you will pardon further rudeness on my part…”

“What is it?”

“I, Vileena Owell, why… for what purpose am I here?”

“You came from Garbera to marry my son, Gil Mephius.”

“Indeed. I am Garberan and, in the not too distant future, I will be Mephian.”

Once again, there not a single person who did not succ.u.mb to nervousness. Recently – specifically, since the accidental death of Simon Rodloom – the emperor had been remarkably taciturn, yet now he was engaging in a long exchange with the princess.

From that alone, it was clear that the emperor had a fondness for this girl. Her decisive speech and personality were no doubt pleasing to Guhl, who had once been renowned as a warrior.

But those last words were entirely impossible to overlook.

“In the not too distant future, I will be Mephian.” – In other words, it meant that she would, as planned, become Gil Mephius’ wife. That plan however had already crumbled to nothing. Gil had been killed in Apta, by someone from the west. Even so, Vileena had clearly said that she would “become Mephian.” That was basically equivalent to saying that the man whom Guhl had unequivocally declared to be an impostor was actually the heir to the crown of Mephius.

Guhl Mephius suddenly rose from the throne.

Startled, most of the people there instinctively cowered back. The emperor took hold of his long staff.

“Colyne,” he called the name of one of his retainers.

“Y-Ye-Yes.” Colyne Isphan hurriedly drew near.

“Call the commander of my Imperial Guards and have him pick a hundred men. In addition, mobilise all the master blacksmiths of Solon and give them the order that, by tomorrow, they are to have forged a full set of armour suitable for the princess’ build.”

“Wha… No… B-But, Your Majesty…”

Colyne’s reputation rested mainly on his ability to always act – both in words and deeds – only according to the emperor’s thoughts, but even he could only blink in bewilderment.

“What?”

“A-Are you going to accept the princess’ proposal?”

“Do you see any other explanation?”

“B-But… That…”

No one there was able to laugh at Colyne’s confusion. Everyone a.s.sembled in that room felt the exact same way.

The emperor having personally accepted the princess’ proposal could result in nothing but embarra.s.sment for the country. Moreover, if, by any chance, danger befell the princess, the relations.h.i.+p with Garbera would definitively be severed.

Only one person remained calm – the one who had caused all this shock and bewilderment, Vileena Owell herself. She remained kneeling, her head bowed. Although in fact, and you would not know it if you were not observing her closely, but her white neck was trembling imperceptibly.

“Colyne, who am I?” Guhl asked, as though imitating the princess’ earlier words.

“H-His Imperial Majesty Guhl Mephius, emperor of the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius.”

“Indeed. And Guhl Mephius never goes back on his promises, even if they are made with women or children. Now obey my orders!”

At long last, the audience chamber erupted with noise.

Even in Mephius’ long history, a princess riding out at the head of a troop of soldiers was almost certainly without precedent.

And in the first place, it was the emperor himself who had ordered that Salamand’s unit be left alone until such a time as it finally turned into a real threat. Was this not because they could be used to strike at the Impostor Prince and diminish his presence?

n.o.body could understand what the emperor’s true intentions were. Of course, that had been true since long ago but, in a sense, the emperor’s words and deeds were now more inscrutable than ever before.

Guhl’s cloak fluttered as he left the audience chamber. The retainers hurriedly rose to see him off.

Among them, Empress Melissa Mephius was the only one to remain seated, and she stared coldly down at the princess.

“The circ.u.mstances have changed,” came the repeated insistence.

As soon as the audience at court was over, Empress Melissa had headed for the Dragon G.o.ds’ temple. Normally, someone would immediately have come to greet her, but today she had been unable to see anyone. Finally, she had managed to catch hold of one of the elders.

“Did you not say that you would take care of the matter concerning that girl?”

“Conditions have changed since then,” he countered Melissa’s words. “Do not worry, even I have heard what the ‘diagnosis’ was for you, Empress. However, since that girl joined the Impostor Prince’s side, the circ.u.mstances of that fate have come to be understood. Please be at ease and focus on giving birth to a splendid heir.”

“But…” Melissa bit her lower lip in what was a girlish gesture. Since she would soon be giving birth, the balance of her heart was apparently easily thrown into disarray.

Staring fixedly at the Empress, who was in this state, the Elder suddenly lowered his voice.

“If it is of concern to you... and if it is your wish… It is fine for you to make your own move. We will not take part in this matter, nor do we have any authority to stop anything.”

Empress Melissa raised her head in surprise. Her expression was a bit like that of an ordinary person who had been struggling to debate an obtuse philosophical point with a learned and aged scholar, and who had suddenly, by chance, found at their feet a piece of paper with all the answers written down.

“Is that alright?”

“The times are changed by people. As for us, our existences are akin to guardians of fate. You may move as you see fit.”

After leaving the temple, the Empress sent some of her ladies’ maids to the commander of the Imperial Guards and obtained a list of the hundred men who would be accompanying the princess.

Having been given such abrupt marching orders, those men were in the middle of making hurried preparations.

“Tanis, if you’ve got a spare cloak, could you lend it me?”

One of them, a man named Alnakk, was scurrying madly among his comrades.

“Didn’t you get told last time to put in a request if you needed supplies?”

“I forgot. At the time, everyone was saying that a battle would break out at any moment in Nedain, so it was completely hectic.”

The imperial guard called Tanis sighed and laid out a spare for Alnakk. Both men were young. Alnakk had risen to becoming an imperial guard through his achievements during the ten-year war with Garbera, but Tanis had virtually no experience with a large-scale battle.

“But hey, Tanis, the little Garberan princess sure said something outrageous. And now even we’ve gotten caught up in it…”

“I admire her. A princess personally leading soldiers and sallying out to subjugate the rebels; it’s like something out of an ill.u.s.trated storybook. It’s an honour to be able to be part of such a historic scene.”

“You sure are a romantic dreamer, Tanis. What’ll you do if the enemy doesn’t listen to the princess and suddenly opens fire?”

“That’s just what I’m hoping for. I’ll chop of the heads of those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who’ve come swaggering any way they want into our territory.”

“On top of being a dreamer, are you going to paint yourself as a paragon of justice, like those Garberan knights? There’s no saving you.”

“So, if the enemy attacks, what’ll you do, Alnakk?”

“Run away at once.”

“Idiot,” Tanis had been trying to look solemn, but now unintentionally burst out laughing. “In that case, forget being attacked by the enemy, the first thing you’ll need to worry about is His Majesty’s wrath.”

“I’m just one guy and I don’t have family either, so I can run away completely. Right, I could always flee to the west and become a pedlar.”

Since this was the company of Imperial Guards under the emperor’s direct orders, most of the soldiers were from good families, although there were also some young men among them who, like Alnakk, had risen up in the world by joining their ranks. Many dreamed that as Imperial Guards, if they achieved merit and caught the emperor’s attention, they might even be able to obtain the rank of aristocrat. Alnakk however did not seem to dream of such success in life.

“Well, I’ll probably be appointed as one of your pursuers. So I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth,” while Tanis was saying that, a visitor arrived for him.

It was the young girl who always acted as the go-between for him and his lover, a maid serving at court. She stealthily handed him a letter.

“Oooh, a secret a.s.signation right before leaving?”

“Hey, don’t tell anyone.”

“Got it. Go and replenish your energy all you want, you ladies’ man.”

Tanis was in a relations.h.i.+p with a servant from the Women’s Quarters of the Palace who was, moreover, a maid to Empress Melissa. He was antic.i.p.ating this night before departure to be tender as well as pa.s.sionate and fierce.

The young couple boldly used a room inside the palace for their trysts. It was always empty and was in a blind spot for the guard patrols, so it was perfect for their use.

It was also the place specified in the letter. After the sun had set, and making sure to be sufficiently cautious of his surroundings, Tanis made his way there.

Although his lover should already have arrived, the inside of the room was dark. There was a hint of something squirming in the shadows.

It was impossible to see very well, but the clothes were those of a lady’s maid. It looked like she had decided on something different today. Tanis held his breath and embraced the maid from behind.

Immediately, he was seized by an uncomfortable feeling.

Driven by a sense that something was terribly wrong, he let go of the maid’s shoulders and peered closely at her face.

Tanis gasped. The pa.s.sion that had taken hold of his body, and with it, all the things he had imagined about the future, were all s.n.a.t.c.hed away in that instant.

Part 2[edit]

Salamand Fogel’s name would certainly go down in History.

At any rate, Salamand himself and the five hundred men who had followed him as part of his suicide squad were all convinced of it.

Garbera’s royal family was on the verge of losing its pride, so they would thrust the true meaning of honour before it, bravely fight in enemy territory, and there die a splendid and heroic death. Starting with Salamand’s, all five hundred of their names would be immortalised, engraved on a stone monument.

Still, it had been more than seven days since they had crossed the border and, although they had been searching and preparing for death, Salamand and the others were, not surprisingly, becoming impatient and irritated.

Partly as a feint, they had taken their time progressing north along the Domick Flats, but there had been no particular movement from the enemy side. At most, and only very rarely, they saw airs.h.i.+ps flying in the distance, probably to check their location.

In that case… They had no choice but the make a move themselves.

Salamand Fogel firmly set a course for Solon. Along the way, there were any number of small castles and forts set up to defend the capital. He intended to attack them.

That night, he talked about the plan while they held their last supper around the campfire. The provisions from the Mephian village had now run out. The suicide squad however did not behave tragically: everyone sang and danced while their excitement swelled, even without there being any alcohol.

At dawn, they leapt on their horses.

And galloped forward.

The sun illuminated the faces of the Garberan knights with its pale light.

They came to a meadow of short gra.s.s.

“Enemies.”

The scouts who had been sent out ahead had returned. They hurried up to Salamand. “Mephian riders are coming this way,” they reported.

Uwah! – a commotion ran throughout the troop. Salamand’s expression turned tense. When he asked for details however, it appeared that the enemy numbered roughly a hundred. Moreover, it was a group of riders who were not pulling any cannons with them.

“A hundred?” Salamand’s voice sounded frankly displeased.

Have they sent out emissaries, at this point? It looked like they still thought that he would heed their remonstrances. Had they brought a few weapons to demonstrate their military might while intending on playing up the alliance?

“What should we do?” His subordinates asked, their expressions disappointed. “Should we send a letter to Guhl? Something like ‘come out and fight us, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d’ might work.”

“Yeah, it might but,” Salamand looked as though he was gritting his teeth, “the first thing we’ll do is put down that one hundred. We’ll send all their heads to Solon. That will be better than any letter to show Guhl how serious we are.”

“Uwah!” Fired up, the knights once again raised their voices all together. This was the fight they had been waiting for until they were tired of waiting, it was as though their spirit was radiating from them and piercing out from their armour; each as determined as a giant who knew no fear.

Salamand had his men take up a seven-column formation and they galloped off, whipping their horses onwards.

The area had little in the way of cover. There were barely any dips and rolls on the ground’s surface. When it came to the fight, it would be a head-on collision.

Right – under his helmet, Salamand gloated at the thought of being able to show off the mettle of Garberan knights.

Before long, the figures of the ‘enemy’ came into sight. As reported, a hundred or so armoured riders were approaching in a line. About half of them seemed to have guns slung across their backs.

From the horses flanking the leader of the group on either side fluttered the banner of Mephius. Salamand felt as though the blood coursing through him was growing wilder and wilder. Yet –

Huh? – He noticed the mounted soldier who was in the lead.

He could not help but notice.

Tiny.

His visor was lowered so that it was impossible to make out his features, but he was surely still a child. Wondering what they were planning, Salamand raised his sword and gave his men the order to hold.

The enemy group similarly halted their horses. It was that tiny warrior who had given the order. In which case, he looked like he was the commander after all.

The young son of some renowned n.o.ble, or maybe… a youth connected to the imperial family perhaps?

At any rate, it looked as though the enemy had, from the start, no intention of engaging in battle here. Salamand’s expression twisted at the realisation.

The two forces faced each other from across a distance of about a hundred metres[1]. There was a gentle wind and the national flags that each side had raised wafted listlessly overhead.

If Salamand’s men were to seize their spears or the swords at their waist, the Mephian soldiers would go for their guns.

Only the sound of the horses’ rough breathing disturbed the silence.

“Parley. I wish to parley with the knights from Garbera,” the tiny soldier at the head of the Mephian side spoke.

A high and childish voice, as expected.

“You have come trampling over Mephian territory and are on course for the imperial capital, Solon. Turn your horses around immediately and return to your own land. In his generosity, and in the name of the alliance and its agreements, His Imperial Majesty Guhl Mephius will then pardon your crimes.”

“Ridiculous,” Salamand’s voice, in sharp contrast, was deep and rough. “Sending out a child like you; Guhl knows no shame. Pardon our crimes? The ones who have committed crimes that defy the heavens are you Mephians.”

“What crime have we committed?”

“As if you didn’t know. The one against Garbera’s exalted royal family, against Lady Vileena Owell. Bring her here to us. Otherwise, we have no reason to listen to the likes of you.”

“Why do we need to bring Princess Vileena to you?”

Asking such a question at this point in time – Salamand sneered from atop his horse.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Since the princess isn’t here, I won’t stoop to exchanging words with the likes of you lot. You’d best hurry on back to your castle. If you don’t, we’ll have to give a spanking to that green a.s.s of yours!” Salamand roared, brandis.h.i.+ng his spear, while his men laughed jeeringly.

“I see.” Without the slightest trace of fear, the enemy commander nodded once then brought his hands to his helmet. “In that case, with this you should be willing to listen, Salamand.”

“What!” Having his name called without any kind of courtesy, Salamand’s smile vanished.

The enemy commander removed his helmet in one swift movement.

In the same moment, the platinum blond hair that seemed to have been bundled beneath flowed free and fell s.h.i.+mmering past her shoulders.

Salamand and the five hundred Garberan knights all gasped for breath.

A person who could not possibly have been there had suddenly appeared. It was as though the dead had suddenly resurrected from beyond the grave. It had been just the same when Gil Mephius had revived in Apta.

“P-Princess…”

Salamand had now lost his voice as well as his smile, and in his place, it was one of the knights behind him who choked out the words.

“Princess Vileena!”

“Impossible,” Salamand yelled, his eyes bulging.

“Now then,” for her part, Vileena Owell addressed him in a perfectly cool voice, “is this enough for you, Salamand, knight of Garbera? With this, you have neither pretext nor just cause to invade Mephian territory. I trust that you are satisfied since I, Vileena Owell, am here as you requested.”

“T-That…” Salamand bent forward as though to avoid some projectile which had suddenly come flying at him. “W-Why… Princess, how can you be here? Why?”

“Why?” Sitting on her horse, Vileena tilted her head. It was a very girlish gesture but, immediately afterwards, she suddenly glared at the ‘enemy commander’. “Do you not understand, knave?” She bellowed.