Volume 2, Chapter 7: The Fifth Arrow
Part 1
“It’s the end of the road for you.”
Hayden had brought his horse to a halt right in front of Leo and spoke as looked down towards him. One by one, the other Allian riders joined him. Leo was surrounded.
His lips curved into a refined smile, Hayden jumped lightly down from his horse. He drew the sword that was at his waist, and thrust it right before the prince’s face.
Leo could do nothing except moan in pain from where he had hit his head and his back.
“Smile,” said Hayden. “Do you remember? You ordered me to do so. And what was it you said after that? Oh, right: ‘go on and do your worst, I’ll show you how I turn the tables on you’ – wasn’t it?”
The nearby riders all laughed as Hayden imitated a boy’s voice. Even when jeering at someone, it was extremely unusual for Hayden to joke around to make others laugh. Simply put, he was in an incredibly good mood.
“You also said that you wanted to see what I could do with my own ‘power’. And now you see it. It’s only a matter of time before the temple falls. And now that you’ve come running to it, I fear that next it will be your own country’s turn. Atall’s aristocrats are completely blind. On that point, I give you my praise. But... well, what of it?”
The tip of his sword shook in time to Hayden’s laughter.
“Even though you wanted to defend the temple at all cost, were you only able to scrape up this many soldiers? And on top of that, they look like a bunch of amateurs. What can you do with them? Toss a stone in an ocean and they’ll be swallowed up in an instant by the wave it causes. That is the limit of your ‘power’, you who challenged the mighty ocean that is Allion.”
“...”
Leo gave no response. He merely raised a feeble gaze towards Hayden. The sun had finally risen, and it bathed the surroundings in its pale light.
“Now than, what should I do, Lord Leo?” Hayden tilted his head to one side, just like a young girl might do. “I could keep you alive. As a hostage captured on the battlefield. But would the sovereign-prince of Atall pay the ransom money? If he decides to carry on pretending complete innocence, he might well just watch his son die without lifting a finger. But if that’s fine by you, let me see you beg for your life. Still, I’m not a man without compassion. If you say that you couldn’t bear such a disgrace, I’ll kindly kill you on the spot. At the end of the day, no matter which you choose, it won’t change either Allion or Atall’s destinies.”
Hayden struck Leo’s cheek with his sword as he spoke. The soft skin burst open and blood started to flow out.
“Now then,” Hayden walked closer. “Choose, Leo Attiel. I taught you this before: a noble should not grasp a sword without the proper resolve. So with that resolve, choose your own fate. Now then!”
Hayden slowly removed the blade from near Leo’s cheek. When he did so, Leo murmured in a trembling voice –
“I...”
“Hmm?”
“I want to live.”
“I see. Then you’ll be a hostage. This gentleman has already been a hostage in Allion for six years, yet it seems that he’s taken a considerable liking to living like that.”
While Hayden sneered as he pulled back his sword, the soldiers on horseback all burst out laughing again.
Whereupon, Leo laughed too. And it was not the kind of obsequious, flattering laugh meant to try and prolong one’s life.
“I will live and I want to live,” said the prince. “But I won’t be left alive thanks to your ‘power’. I will live thanks to my own ‘power’ alone.”
“What?” Hayden looked down his nose at him as he jeered. “Are you still talking back? Poor fool, you can keep your life and still lose a few limbs, you know?”
Leo’s smile did not falter.
If the Heavens were going to grant Leo even a little of the luck that they had been lavishing on Hayden, that was the moment to do it.
Ally reinforcements did not appear. Nor did Leo have any other plans carefully prepared in advance and still waiting to be used. And of course, there was no miracle, such as a bolt of lightning from the sky striking Hayden down.
But Leo was laid out on the ground, surrounded by Allion’s soldiers. And from that position, he could see it. Over the line of hills, unobstructed by houses or walls, smoke was clearly rising in the western sky, which was still faintly shrouded in darkness.
Noticing that Leo was not looking at him, Hayden casually glanced back behind him. And saw the same thing as Leo.
“What’s...” he started to ask his men, then suddenly opened his eyes wide in astonishment. “That’s...!”
“Allion’s headquarters.”
Hayden swiftly turned back around when Leo’s voice answered him. In that same moment, their surroundings suddenly erupted into noise.
“Go look!” Hayden barked an order at one of his men, who quickly took off on horseback. He then turned his sharp glare back towards Leo. “Our headquarters, you say? Bastard... is that it, so you attacked out camp?”
“If you had been just a little slower, you might also have been going up in flames, and your soul might have been sucked into the smoke.”
“Bullshit!”
Hayden readjusted his grip on the sword he had just pulled back and struck Leo on the cheek with the hilt. The blow was so strong that Leo’s head jerked sideways, and blood flew from his mouth.
“I see, so this was your plan to pull back from the brink? But how unfortunate for you – see, even though I was supposed to be devoured in your flames, I’m still alive!” Hayden spread out both his hands and roared with laughter. “So what if that temporary fort burns? The temple will fall soon anyway. I’ll just take it over and turn it into my base. Even if your damn soldiers took control of our headquarters, we can just attack them from both sides once the next wave of our Allion troops come and...”
“Lord Hayden!”
The rider that Hayden ha sent out had already returned. Listening to the words that hastily tumbled from the soldier, Hayden’s face went pale.
“My troops are retreating, you say? How?!”
While Hayden’s question was completely understandable, if he had been able to see the situation, the answer would have been just as readily available. Allion’s troops were, at that moment, in the middle of withdrawing from Mount Conscon. The rider had been able to return so quickly because as soon as he had left the abandoned settlement, he had been able to see the long line of lights descending the mountain.
It had started with the five hundred of his men who had crept up Mount Conscon from behind: they had witnessed the black smoke rising from their headquarters from the very beginning.
Those soldiers had no way of knowing that Hayden was not at the headquarters. Moreover, even though they were supposed to have been guided by one of their spies to stage a surprise attack on the temple, they had been the ones to be ambushed and fired at. And now, on top of that, their headquarters were in flames.
Allion’s forces obviously couldn’t know what the enemy’s actual situation was. From their point of view, it looked like they had been lured to the mountain so that the enemy could launch a large-scale offensive.
In which case, there was only one possible choice to make.
“Retreat!”
There was no worse fear having a force cross into their own country’s territory to attack them, and losing their support from the rear.
They turned their backs on the unit of warrior monks.
Thanks to their captain’s accurate judgement, they had been able to avoid receiving a devastating blow, and had even pushed back the enemy at one point. But there was no denying that they had fallen into a trap. The soldiers definitely held doubts about this fight. Not about whether the warrior monks had laid further snares beyond this one, but about whether this entire fight at the temple hadn’t been designed to lure them in.
In other words, ironically enough, it was the very fact that Allion had seen through the only trap that Leo had laid which sparked their fears.
Helmets and armour of Allian design rushed down the slopes of the mountain, like an avalanche of steel. That was the uproar which Hayden and those near him had heard.
“Ridiculous! Have them go back!” Hayden yelled.
He was about to send out more men to have them convey his orders, but at that moment, the militiamen that Leo had outdistanced heaved into sight, all shouting as one. Although in themselves, they were not opponents that Hayden’s soldiers needed to far, their appearance suggested that the warrior monks might be chasing after Allion’s fleeing troops and be heading this way.
They all realised that remaining where they were was dangerous.
“Lord Hayden, we should withdraw for now!”
“We should regroup with the rest of our troops. If you appear before them, Lord Hayden, they will surely regain morale. Capturing the temple can come later.”
Hayden growled like a beast of prey. When he glanced again towards Leo, his face became suffused with even greater rage.
“Why are you smiling?”
“You’re the one who told me to smile, Hayden. So I’m smiling.”
“You...”
At that moment, Hayden Swift made the stupidest mistake of his life.
There was no way that Lord Leo would be unarmed. Yet even so, and perhaps carelessly believing he could deal with an opponent who had no weapon in hand and who seemed to have no more practical combat experience than a child, he bent forward towards Leo.
Was he intending to at least kill Leo with the sword he held in his hand, or had he planned to take him hostage?
In that moment, Leo’s lips puckered. From those lips that seemed to be asking a lover for a kiss, he spat out a blood-covered tooth.
It had broken when Hayden hit him earlier. And now, it hit Hayden in the eye. In the second that he faltered after being struck on the eyeball, Leo drew his sword and swung it straight at him.
Leo had long been receiving training; he could not err when striking at an defenceless opponent. The blow beautifully cleaved the top of Hayden’s head in two.
The screams that rang out were not Hayden’s own, but those of his men, behind him on horseback. As for Hayden Swift himself, he didn’t make a sound as his head helplessly bobbed left and right, like a doll dropped from a great height, before slumping into a sitting position, his eyes starting wide open.
Death was close.
He was less than a second away from the moment of his death, but in that instant before the high wave came crashing down and dragged his consciousness into the dark, his thoughts were many.
I’m going to die, was the first of them.
Impossible, was his next thought, but he immediately revised it as, in that second, Hayden accepted what had happened with surprising ease.
And then, he thought of Leo Attiel, the one who had defeated him.
He did not think of anything else. Thoughts of his parents, of his wife and children, of the King of Allion, and even of Florrie Anglatt, whom he had been so deeply obsessed over, were all easily swept away from Hayden’s consciousness just before death.
Leo Attiel...
It was just last night, before he had left for the frontlines, that Hayden had, for the first time, felt a bond of fate with the second prince of the Principality of Atall. But he had from the very start sensed that there was something predestined about Lord Leo’s existence. Hayden understood that; it was simply that he had not previously acknowledged it.
It had been when he had first met Leo Attiel at Claude Anglatt’s castle, a place he now remembered with nostalgia.
He had instinctively realised that, we’re alike.
In other words, they had both shared the same mutual perception of each other.
Which was why –
Hayden had felt so overwhelmingly irritated by Leo’s manner, by his voice, by his very existence.
Which was why –
Even though he had not been particularly drunk, he had publicly mocked the young Atallese prince.
Which was why –
Hayden, who had lost interest in so many things, had, in so short a time, poured out his energy to an almost frightening degree, until he was utterly spent.
That’s why...
Unable to think any more thoughts beyond that, Hayden fell backwards against to the ground, and never moved again.
Astounded as they were, the Allian riders hesitated for one single moment: should they thrust their spears against Lord Leo in revenge, or should they leave this place immediately? That one second was enough. In contrast to Hayden, who had collapsed from the waist up, Lord Leo stood up straight and raised his sword which had, even now, only taken a single life.
“I’ve killed the enemy general, Hayden Swift,” Leo bent back his head and shouted. “It’s our victory! Drive out the remains of the enemy force!”
“Aaay!” the militiamen all cried together as they came rushing up to obey that ferocious order.
To the Allian riders, it looked for all the world like battle-hardened troops were running to them from the other side of Leo Attiel’s upraised sword, responding to the one who was unmistakably their military commander.
Since they had lost their own commander-in-chief, there was no more question of victory for them. Only their own decisions could save them now. And as a result –
“Retreat!”
One after another, the riders turned their horses around and rapidly galloped away, Covering Lord Leo in a cloud of dust as they did so.
Part 2
Camus, warrior monk of the temple, looked down at the enemy who was withdrawing from the side of the main gate. After the enemies at the back of the mountain had retreated, he had immediately gathered his unit and gone to join those defending at the front. These new arrivals and the tangled information around them led the front part of Allion’s army to believe that their force had already entirely collapsed, which in turn meant that they too commenced a speedy withdrawal.
All over the mountainside, warrior monks were waving their arms overhead. There were many also who were kneeling and crossing themselves. Some laughed out loud, while others openly wept, not caring that they could be seen. “No, we can’t let down our guard yet,” said those with actual combat experience, and they immediately started getting their units ready.
Camus did none of these things.
For a while, he watched the retreating backs of Allion’s soldiers, his shoulders heaving as he gasped for breath. Do I go?
He then started climbing up the mountain path.
He was using his spear to support himself, but his feet were dragging for a reason that was completely separate from the injury to his thigh.
Although a few of their calculations had been off, on the whole, things had gone according to plan. Yet Camus was not feeling elation from their victory. There was still one more thing he needed to do.
“We did it!”
“God’s grace protected us!”
But as his comrades called out to him and clapped him on the shoulders, Camus did not respond in kind, and silently walked by.
His destination was the inner sanctum in the main temple at the summit. He could see the cross towering from on high above the steeple, yet for some reason, Camus could not look at what was supposed to be the very symbol of his faith.
The temple was surrounded by the very few of Nauma’s men who still remained on the mountain. They had received Leo’s orders through Camus. Guard the temple where Bishop Rogress is staying, and don’t let anyone go in or out, he had said.
When Camus had conveyed this to the bishop, he made the point that, “Allion’s spies are still mixed in among us. And there will be more than one. They might take advantage of the fighting to come after your life, Bishop. Whatever you do, please stay in the inner sanctum during the fight. Don’t take so much as a single step outside.”
Bishop Rogress had agreed to it.
Upon being asked, the Atallese soldiers confirmed that no one had entered or left. Which meant that the bishop was definitely inside.
“Well then, do we go in?” The soldiers lined up their spears, but Camus stopped them from entering the temple.
“Why not?” The soldiers looked puzzled at first, but suspicion soon crept into their faces. “You haven’t changed your mind because of one win against Allion, have you? Victory probably won’t last, you know. If you think about what will come afterwards...”
“I know!” Camus roughly interrupted the soldier.
“Even if we manage to win this fight, it will only be temporary,” these were the very words that Camus, standing in for Lord Leo, had thoroughly drilled into these soldiers. There was no need to repeat them at this stage.
“But let me go by myself first. I don’t want to suddenly have the bishop threatened with a row of spears. I’d like to tell him myself.”
“We don’t have that much time.”
The soldiers scrutinised their surroundings. Since the enemy was still withdrawing, most of the warrior monks and the faithful were still in position, but once the enemy had disappeared from sight, people would soon start gathering around the temple.
“I know that too,” Camus replied curtly, and stepped into the building.
He walked down the empty passageway. His last remaining task was to remove Bishop Rogress from Conscon Temple. When Lord Leo had revealed his plans at Guinbar Castle, this had been the one thing that Camus had most objected to.
Leo did not believe that they could be content with repelling the onslaught led by Allion’s army. Percy, and also Camus himself, had agreed with him. Even if they defeated a thousand soldiers, Allion still had ten of thousands more. These might be sent out in quick succession, or tens of thousands of men might be sent out all at once, and the temple’s one victory would be as good as inexistent.
According to Leo, there were two people who would be vitally important in turning that one victory into the end of hostilities between Allion and the temple.
“The first is Hayden Swift. He’s the one who suggested to the king that they send soldiers against the temple. Allion won’t stop its attack unless we defeat the man who started it all. On the other hand, if we can get rid of him, there probably won’t be anyone left who will want to continue a campaign which has brought them no benefits.”
Up to that point, Camus had been in agreement. The problem lay with what had come next.
“And the second one is Bishop Rogress,” after pausing for a beat, Lord Leo had continued. “Rumours in Allion claim that he ‘cursed the royal family’. On top of that, there are any number of criticisms within the country about how ‘the bishop is interfering in Allion’s politics,’ and about how ‘he is busy establishing his own independent state by establishing a free market at Conscon Temple and by having the monks take weapons’.”
That was nothing but vile slander, thought Camus, but he had not interrupted at that moment. The prince had only just described his plan of a sneak attack against Dytiann, and Camus, whose attention had been on that, had already been close to erupting in anger. Leo’s next words, however, had left the monk aghast.
“Even if the fight can be brought to an end for the time being, as long as the bishop himself is at Conscon, it will be impossible to eliminate the antagonism and hostility against the temple within Allion. Which is why... after defeating Allion’s forces, I intend to have the bishop resign, at least for a short while, from his position as head of Conscon Temple.”
Leo continued still further,
“We’ll have him write a letter to the King of Allion along the lines that he will be embarking on a pilgrimage to pray for the souls of those who died during the campaign. That way, we can have the bishop disappear so that even the temple won’t know where he is. That will be the official story, at least; in fact, he will be moved to the church here in Guinbar. A suitable successor will also need to be installed at the temple until things calm down. Allion will almost certainly accept this ‘concession’ from the temple. With no more reason to continue the fight, and given that Allion will more or less have been able to maintain face, they...”
At that point, Camus’ emotions had exploded.
Isn’t that exactly like saying that Bishop Rogress is the main reason for the war!
Despite having that thought, Camus had agreed to the plan after his exchange with Leo. He couldn’t do anything but agree. The desire to oppose Leo’s plan still remained within him, but he also believed that there was no other method to bring an end to the quarrel between Allion and the temple.
Just as Lord Leo had said, the pretext for the fight had always been to punish the bishop for his ‘insolence’ at having rained curses on the royal family. If the bishop left the temple, then Allion would lose all justification to send its army against Conscon.
Even Camus could see what the reality was. For all that his faith was as firm as iron, and for all that he was willing to continue brandishing his spear, that wouldn’t result in anything except adding more victims to the count. Sooner or later, the temple would burn down. And when that happened, he would once again have folded before ‘power’.
Faith alone – ideals alone can’t oppose ‘power’.
That was something that he understood all too well, both from Abbot Tom’s example, and from his own experience.
He had told nobody – neither the bishop himself nor any of the temple monks – about the scheme to remove Rogress. It was clear that they would oppose it, and he could not afford to cause divisions within the temple just before they put their battle plan into practice.
So at the very least, Camus was determined to personally take on the duty of informing the bishop.
How would Bishop Rogress respond to it? It would good if he agreed to it. But if he fought against it, then... Then it can’t be helped. This is for the temple’s future – and for all the people who live here. I’ll take him with me, even if I have to do so by force. I’ll take the bishop’s anger and the whole weight of sin on myself.
Just as he was steeling his resolve, he felt like someone’s shadow was moving on the left side of the passageway, in the direction of the chapel.
“Bishop?” Camus called out. Bishop Rogress was supposed to be the only one within the inner sanctum.
The shadowy silhouette that he thought he had seen for a second vanished with a rustle.
Was it just my imagination?
He needed to hurry.
Camus climbed the staircase and went to the room where the bishop usually stayed. He knocked on the sturdy wooden door and called the bishop’s name. But there was no answer.
“Bishop Rogress,” he called out once more.
There was nothing but silence.
His heart suddenly started pounding wildly. As though trying to shake off his awful premonition, Camus once again called out, “Bishop,” with a nonchalant air as he pushed open the door.
The scene that greeted him was far worse than he had imagined. Bishop Rogress was slumped over his favourite desk. His episcopal robes were soaked in blood, while blood also trickled down from the edge of the desk and onto where a dagger, which was likewise dyed red, had fallen.
Camus dropped his spear.
He rushed up to the bishop, forgetting all about the pain in his leg. He pulled Rogress to him, but it was already too late. The bishop had breathed his last, and blood was flowing from the base of his neck. It had no doubt been slashed with the dagger which had fallen to the floor.
In contrast to the gore-covered body, Camus’ face was pale, but as he lifted the bishop into his arms, he noticed a sheet of parchment spread out on top of the desk. There was something written on the blood-spattered paper. As Camus’ eyes almost unconsciously ran over the words written there, they somewhat belatedly started to fill with tears.
Conscon Temple savoured the taste of victory for only a very short time. The monks, as well as the many other people living on the mountain, soon heard of Bishop Rogress’ death, and the triumphant victory songs which had been echoing across the hills quickly gave way to cries of shock, and then of grief.
The Atallese soldiers had guarded the temple where the bishop had been. There had been no crack in their defence; the bishop had taken his own life.
The letter that Camus had found contained the bishop’s last words. It started by saying that he had not erred in his piety. The letter continued, however, by saying that although he had not gone wrong in his faith, there was equally no denying that it had caused the deaths of a great many people.
“Whether this fight ends with us achieving victory or suffering defeat, there is no longer any sense in allowing more people to die. I have already proven my love for our God. It is now those who follow our teachings who are indispensable in order to carry on our feelings of faith. My life, therefore, has become unnecessary.”
The bishop then wrote with nostalgic fondness of his bond with the king of Allion, and expressed his gratitude towards the king for having done so much to revive the temple. After which, he continued,
“To end one’s own life is anathema to our teachings, but I will hereby deliberately break that taboo and bear the stigma of being an apostate. My dear pupils, my soul will fall into perdition, and I will experience the agony of burning in the fires of Hell for all eternity. You do not need to praise my name. You do not need to try and protect me. Instead, you must turn your voices against me: hate me, curse me, and mock me. But even though I am a man who gave up halfway on the thorny path that was my allotted fate, you must not deny the unbroken, living faith that carries on within you. There is no falsehood in it, for it has been carved into you down to your last drop of blood, through your pain and suffering; and you do not need to abase yourself before anyone in this world, for your faith is holy. The fight ends today. This current fight. There is a new fight that you will embark on from today onwards, and in it, you must never yield. Even as I burn in the fires of Hell, I will not fail to offer my prayers to God for you,” it concluded.
Every single one of the monks, without exception, wept when they heard Bishop Rogress’ last testament. The populace also knelt as they made the sign of the cross, and offered prayers to the Heavens.
When Percy Leegan arrived at the temple a short while later, he too learned of the bishop’s death. He went to the room where Rogress had died, which had still been left untouched, and was struck as speechless as Camus had been. He did not, however, lose his presence of mind.
He carefully examined the floor. There were some red footprints; they were probably Camus’, since his boots had been covered in the bishop’s blood. Then, in a spot that was slightly removed from the vivid red footsteps, Percy noticed something red which was clearly different from blood – a strand of red hair which had fallen to the ground.
After swiftly making sure that there was no one else in the room, he picked it up and hid it in his breast pocket.
Shortly thereafter, Leo Attiel also arrived at Mount Conscon. Once the news spread that the prince had killed Hayden Swift with his own hands, the cloud of sorrow covering the mountain seemed to lift, even if only for a brief period. Praised as a ‘hero’, he was greeted with cheers that sounded like a beast roaring as the morning mist still drifted through the trees.
Leo received Percy and Camus’ reports. When he heard that the bishop had committed suicide, Leo got down from his horse and, for the first time in his life – not counting his baptism – he made the sign of the cross. There was no time, however, for him to feel grief or any particularly deep emotion. He needed to shoot the “final arrow” without delay.
Allion’s army had pulled away from Mount Conscon like the receding tide. They had passed by the smouldering remains of their burned-down headquarters, and returned to their own country.
As though chasing after them, the news of Bishop Rogress’ death crossed Allion’s border and reached the capital. At first, there were rumours that “the king of Allion sent assassins”, but these were later corrected to, “the bishop committed suicide”.
There was one person who offered stronger proof of it than anyone. Crossing over the border and into Allion, he had almost seemed to be chasing after the rumours that had, in turn, been pursuing the soldiers.
That man was Leo Attiel.
Very soon after Allion’s army had retreated from Mount Conscon, he had got in touch with General Claude Anglatt, with whom he had friendly relations, and with Claude’s permission, he had entered Allion’s territory with a very small handful of attendants.
He remained for a while in Claude’s fief while the general dispatched a letter to the capital. Upon receiving that missive, the king of Allion fell silent.
Hayden Swift had been a friend of his. That friend had lost his life on a battlefield where he should have been absolutely sure of winning. And to top it all, it was said that he had died at Lord Leo Attiel’s own two hands.
Damned Atall! The king raged.
There were several young men who rushed to fall in with the king’s emotions. They clamoured wildly that they would gather the troops posted throughout the country and, without pausing at the temple, would strike against Atall.
Very soon afterwards, however, the news of Bishop Rogress’ suicide caused huge tremors within Allion. According to a further piece of news that had arrived, Lord Leo had been organising the troops to give chase to the retreating army but, upon learning that the bishop had killed himself to put an end to the fighting, the prince had cancelled his departure with his soldiers, and had offered prayers for the “great martyr” throughout an entire night at Conscon Temple. His actions received considerable praise from the followers of the Cross Faith within Allion.
When, in addition to that, the king of Allion was informed that Leo Attiel was prepared to personally travel to the capital to deliver Bishop Rogress’ last letter, it was no longer possible for him to carelessly raise the troops for a war of revenge.
Besides these internal considerations, there was also the fact that Dytiann had taken advantage of this opportunity to try and trespass into Allion’s territory. Although Claude Anglatt’s efforts had put a stop to it before anything happened, between Atall and Dytiann, the latter was a far greater threat, and Allion’s warriors were more inclined to turn their hostility towards Dytiann, vowing that they “could not let this pass”.
“I’ll meet him,” said the king of Allion after a moment’s silence. “But I would hate for the prince to undertake the long, hard journey all the way to the capital.”
Thus, they would meet in an area called Jester, which was situated exactly halfway between the capital and the Anglatt territory. It was a beautifully scenic place, with a lake close to the local castle town, and on the shores of which were villas belonging to the royal family, which they often made use of when inviting foreign dignitaries to visit.
The audience would take place in an old castle built on an island in the lake. It was rich in history, as it was said that a grandson to Zodias, the founder of the Magic Dynasty, had built the castle overnight for his beautiful and beloved wife, using sorcery to carry the stones. Its appearance was likened in loveliness to a swan, resting its feathers on the lake.
In that castle’s audience hall, Lord Leo Attiel, the second-born prince of Atall, stood in front of Hugh-Jarl Jamil, king of Allion. Nobles stood in rows on either side. It was not only those who resided in Jester who were present; there were also many who had travelled from the capital to catch a glimpse of the prince.
They could not hide their surprise at Lord Leo’s childlike appearance. Moreover, the prince was wearing a long, simple robe that resembled the habits worn by monks of the Cross Faith, and a crucifix hung from his neck. He greeted Allion’s king in a calm voice, and held out the letter that Bishop Rogress had left behind.
First, the king received it from a servant and cast his eyes over the blood-smeared parchment. For several seconds, he went over the words written in the letter. Once he had finished reading the document whose edges had been dyed into a red border by Rogress’ own blood, he rolled up the parchment and handed it back to the servant who, in turn, returned it to Leo.
The prince spoke in the same quiet voice as earlier,
“The bishop was, to the very end, a man of principle. As a fellow believer in the Cross Faith, I received his kindness and moved my soldiers because of it, but Atall never had the slightest desire to inflict any injury on Allion’s territory.”
Seated imposingly on his throne, the king of Allion replied,
“Allion too has no wish to particularly go looking for trouble with our neighbouring country. The recent events, Rogress’ death among them, have been an accumulation of misfortunes. That is how I see things.”
At the risk of repeating myself, Allion had lost its justification for war with the death of Bishop Rogress. By having this audience with the king, Leo, who had trespassed into Allion’s territory and killed Hayden, was more or less saving appearances. And the king of Allion had decided to meet Leo face-to-face because, of course, he too wanted that outcome.
“By the way, Lord Leo,” said the king now that they were practically at the end of the audience. “Even though you spent more than six years in my country, this is the first time we meet, huh?”
“Aye.”
“We should have gotten to know each other a little earlier. That’s what I’m thinking now.”
“...Aye.”
Leo Attiel could only hang his head, disconcerted.
It was at that moment that he heard the pitter-patter of small footsteps approach. When Leo raised his eyes, a little boy with snow white skin was standing at his side. Their gazes met.
“Is it you?” the boy demanded in a high-pitched voice.
“Oi, Kaseria.”
The boy paid no attention to the king who called out to him from the throne, and stared fixedly at Leo.
“Is it you who beat Allion’s army?” he asked in the same high voice.
With several of teeth missing and his clothes covered in dirt, he was the very image of a child enjoying his life of play. And yet –
Kaseria? I see, so this child is the prince of Allion?
It was a name that Leo was familiar with.
He was seven years old. Leo had heard that right after he was born, he had hovered on the border of life and death, and the one who had saved him had been none other than Bishop Rogress.
Did the bishop really receive a divine miracle? Or was it just a coincidence? I suppose now, we’ll never know, Leo remained silent.
“Don’t get too full of yourself,” screamed Kaseria, while his freckled cheeks went crimson. “You still haven’t beaten me. Don't think you've already beaten Allion!”
He didn’t just shout, he also kicked Leo in the shin.
“Kaseria!”
When the king raised his voice in reproach, the ladies’ maids in charge of the boy came rushing out from behind the rows of courtiers.
“Prince, please come with us.”
“We’ve prepared some delicious sweets and tea, so won’t you come with us?”
While each of them called out coaxingly to him, they tried to catch the prince who was running about in the hall. The king of Allion sighed with a bitter expression on his face.
“He’s always been spoiled. Apologies, Lord Leo.”
“All goes in accordance with God’s will,” right at the very end, Leo let show just a tiny bit of mischievousness as he raised his crucifix.
Part 3
This was the last arrow that Leo shot. He had turned himself into an arrow to bring an end to things, at least for now. This ‘fourth arrow’ added itself to the ones he had released on the battlefield.
Yet if, during the battles around Mount Conscon, there had been someone able to observe things from the ‘Heavens’, they would probably deem that “Lord Leo’s visit to Allion was the ‘fifth arrow’ from Atall’s side.”
Then what was that fifth arrow? Who was sent out?
Only a very few people know the answer to that now.
At the same time as the rumours were spreading in Allion, they blew like the wind into Atall. As the facts were revealed to them one after another, everyone’s expressions went from astonishment, to pallor, to dread. Then, when it became known that Lord Leo had already peacefully concluded his audience with the king of Allion, people finally felt at ease and, with that sense of security, the story of how Lord Leo had rushed to the temple and repelled Allion’s forces now sounded exhilarating. In the blink of an eye, voices rang out throughout the land in praise of Leo.
There were some, however, who did not view him favourably.
The first was Dytiann.
The upper echelons of the Church had sent Arthur Causebulk on a mission that they had viewed as a mere formality, yet he and the entire advance troop of three hundred had died in battle. Nobody in Dytiann could believe their ears. Arthur’s mission had merely been to lead the Sergaia Holy Rose Division to the temple, so an outcome like this one simply shouldn’t have been possible.
Just before he left for Allion, Leo had sent Dytiann a letter. In it, he explained that when they had been about to land with the Holy Rose Division’s air carrier, Arthur had received information that the fighting had already begun, whereupon, he had declared that “we will show them Dytiann’s mettle in this holy war,” and had personally decided to lead an assault deep within Allion’s territory. The plan had been to cut off the attacking forces from their headquarters and to wear down their spirit, but, alas, Claude Anglatt had been quick to realise what was happening, and he had laid his troops in ambush. The result was the tragic annihilation of Arthur’s unit.
Leo lavishly praised Arthur Causebulk, saying that the victory at Conscon Temple was largely thanks to his courage, and he accompanied his words with expressions of gratitude. At around the same time, a letter from the temple’s acting representative, the contents of which were very close to what Leo was saying, arrived in Dytiann. Attached to it was the desire to honour Arthur as one of the temple’s saints.
Dytiann had failed entirely in its designs. Not long after, they received a communication from Allion. Since they had to leave themselves a way out, they could not afford to be careless in their remarks to Atall. They sent a letter of congratulations for their victory to both Atall and the temple.
There was one person, however, who could not settle for this.
“Impossible!”
Bishop Baal cried out, his face ashen. He who had gone to Atall with Arthur as an envoy continued,
“I made sure to tell Arthur not to stand on the frontlines. Yet they say he attacked the enemy camp? And on top of that, he was conveniently ambushed by Allion’s troops? A-And above all else, they were annihilated without a single survivor! It’s completely unthinkable. This is Allion we’re talking about: they would have taken hostages to get information about Dytiann, or ransom money, or whatever. They must have been working with Atall. They massacred the unit to ensure their silence!”
He continued to fire off words to himself so forcefully that it seemed as though the veins which were starting out from forehead would burst at any moment, and he would collapse as his blood gushed out of him. Yet no matter how much of a ruckus he kicked up, he could not alter Dytiann’s policy all by himself.
“You...”
Finally, his face as crimson as though he were crying tears of blood, Baal pledged a terrible oath before the church’s altar.
“You who murdered Arthur, I will bring down the hammer of God’s judgement upon you. No... it may be Allion who is directly responsible for Arthur’s killing, but in reality, the ones deserving of hatred are Atall – and also Leo Attiel. That accursed boy, pretending to cling to us in desperation, while inwardly, he was sneering at us. With an expression as innocent as a child’s, he offered Arthur in sacrifice to the devil. Watch well: one day, I will definitely, definitely, take your head – you who are possessed by the devil – and I will raise it on high above this altar!”
And then, there was one other...
The other person who could not view Lord Leo’s actions with any kind of pleasure was Magrid Attiel.
Indeed, yes, the prince’s own father.
When he received the succession of reports about this latest mayhem, and once he grasped the whole picture, he shook with surprise, agitation, and then with anger.
That anger was equal to the king of Allion’s, who had lost a close friend. No, perhaps it even exceeded it. Magrid promptly had Leo return to Tiwana Palace, but as the rumours of Leo’s accomplishments had already reached the capital, the welcome he received there was unprecedented in its enthusiasm.
It was similar to what had happened before, when he had escaped from Allion. Now, however he was the hero who had defeated that same Allion. As Leo strutted along the road on horseback, the populace’s loud cheers washed over him like rain. Beneath the blue sky and alongside the flag that was emblazoned with the crest of Atall’s ruling house, a flag bearing a cross fluttered in the cool, refreshing breeze. This was the flag which symbolised Leo Attiel and, from then onwards, it would come to leave a strong impression on the people of Atall.
Claiming that he was “not feeling well,” Magrid did not go to meet his son. Yet that evening, he immediately summoned Leo to his chambers. The only other person in the room was Branton, his oldest son.
“What is the meaning of this!”
Faced with the furious shouting of his sovereign and father, Leo embarked on a lengthy explanation.
First, he revealed how he had received a letter from Bishop Rogress of Conscon Temple very shortly after his baptismal ceremony.
“It contained a direct plea to me for help as a fellow believer in the Cross Faith. After I had finished reading it, I was shaking. The bishop was already contemplating suicide even back then. But offering his life alone would probably not be enough to put a stop to Allion’s greed and ambition. Therefore, could I not, at the very least, send enough soldiers to protect the populace and the faithful, he asked...”
Naturally enough, however, the number of soldiers that Lord Leo could freely make use of was extremely limited. Thereupon, when the envoys from Dytiann repeatedly stated that they wished to “meet directly with the newly-baptised Lord Leo,” he had decided to see them on the pretext of a private greeting.
“And so you decided, on nothing but your own authority, to ask for reinforcements from Dytiann?” Magrid frowned.
What the sovereign-prince was most concerned about, however, was not how to berate his son. Apparently, upon receiving Leo’s unsupported permission, Dytiann’s military unit had openly crossed Atall’s territory in an air carrier. Magrid’s concern was that he had not received a single report of their being sighted by any of the patrols.
If a group of cavalrymen or of infantry had forced their way into Atall’s lands, the surveillance network spread out across the towns and fortresses would definitely have caught them. This incident, however, clearly revealed that conventional surveillance by itself was not enough to monitor movements by air carrier.
I hadn’t realised that an armada of air carriers could suddenly appear in the skies above Tiwana.
The development of large-sized ships carrying nothing but soldiers meant that the way of conducting warfare would change.
Countries that are by the sea absolutely need a navy. Not only to prevent enemy attacks, but also to keep their territorial waters from enemy hands. Will an ‘air force’ become necessary in the same way for the skies which every country shares?
Magrid was experiencing the sensation of encountering a new threat. Leo continued,
“There is no denying that I had no right to lead soldiers and to go in reinforcement to the temple. Please forgive me, Father... no, Your Majesty. But should I have pretended not to see the temple’s suffering? Should I have refused the favour that Bishop Rogress was begging of me with his life on the line? Up until then, I – Leo Attiel – had only ever been an insignificant hostage sent to Allion. How could I, when the bishop’s request was recognising me as a man, as a warrior, as a fellow believer of the same faith?”
You could certainly say that Leo was skilful. Why else would he bring out such a narcissistic comment at a time like this? Rather than say that “the prince was behind everything that happened and even entirely deceived his father the sovereign-prince,” it was better to present the disturbance as being due to “the prince going off and taking action because of his selfish desire to be a hero.” The rout of Allion’s army would then be no more than a result of that.
And thus –
“You fool!” Being berated by Magrid was probably well within Leo’s expectations. “Are you planning to become king, maybe? Do you realise that because of your selfishness, Allion’s army might well have been trampling into Atall at this very moment? A ‘man’ and a ‘warrior’ and a ‘believer’, was it? Are you saying that the people of Atall aren’t worth any more than that puny little pride of yours!?”
There was nothing that Leo could do except fall to his knees. At times like these, it was always the kind-hearted Branton who would come to his defence.
“I can understand Leo’s feelings,” and “my little brother is still very young – he still has a lot he needs to study,” he said, while at the same time turning to his brother to rebuke him, “but you know, Leo, deciding by yourself to have an audience with the king of Allion, that really is going too far.”
In all honesty, saying that Leo had “gone too far” was putting it too mildly. However, even though Magrid could summon Leo in private and yell at him as a father, as the sovereign-prince, he could not publicly punish the young lord.
One of the reasons was that this matter was simply too big. The reality was that Leo had lead soldiers to fight Allion’s army, but if it became known that this had not been what the sovereign-prince wanted, then it would be revealed for all to see that not just the country but even the ruling House itself was lacking any kind of unity. It was all too easy to imagine that this would allow the vassal-lords to gain even more power, not to mention that Allion or Dytiann might see in it a perfect opportunity to intervene in Atall.
The second reason was that Leo had successfully protected the temple. He had also prevented relations with Allion from deteriorating any further by personally meeting with the king. Atall’s current situation could not possibly be any better than it was. And in fact, the people were already starting to see Leo as a hero.
And finally, the last reason was that Leo would soon be getting married to the daughter of an Allian general. This was certainly also one of the reasons why the king of Allion had allowed Leo into his lands. On top of wedding Florrie, Leo also had a strong connection to the Cross Faith, and was preparing to establish its first diocese in Atall. From here on, he would be responsible for contact with Allion in more ways than one. It wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration to say that Leo’s very existence was now a lifeline for Atall.
Thus, the sovereign-prince could not, at this time, publicly condemn his son.
After scolding Leo harshly then having him leave for the time being, Magrid sat far back into his chair and heaved a very, very long sigh. He summoned a page to prepare him a drink.
“Even though it’s a bit late, should I get a tutor for Leo?” he said to no one in particular. “Or maybe, even if it is right after his wedding, I should have him cloistered away in the cathedral as a priest of the Cross Faith? Either way, he’s too dangerous to leave as is.”
Magrid twirled the wine cup in his hand.
Even though they were father and child, Leo had spent six years growing up in Allion, so Magrid did not know his son’s personality. Because of that, he was not surprised at how much Leo had changed in such a short amount of time. In other words, the way he saw it wasn’t that “Leo has changed,” but rather, “that boy has always had the potential to be dangerous.”
This would have a huge influence on the relationship between the two of them.
Thus did Leo Attiel triumph over Hayden Swift.
Around that time, a letter of thanks was sent to Leo from Conscon Temple. According to what it said, a priest who been the equivalent of a close aide to Bishop Rogress would soon be inaugurated as the new bishop. Camus had risen considerably in rank, going from being merely one of the warrior monks to becoming the new bishop’s assistant. He would also serve as the point of liaison between the temple and the church at Guinbar. He and his sister, Sarah, would be staying at the temple for the time being, “until the situation has calmed down”.
When Sarah had informed Leo of this, she had added some other, completely unnecessary comments.
“Please take care of Kuon while I’m away in case he gets lonely. That puppy is always disappearing somewhere as soon as you take your eyes off of him, so I think it might be a good idea to teach him kindly with a collar,” she said, in a deliberately loud voice, so that Kuon would be able to hear.
Percy had a really hard time soothing the boy’s fury.
Half a month after being reprimanded by the sovereign-prince, Lord Leo left Tiwana with Percy and Kuon, and once more headed to Guinbar Castle. He wanted to see how the cathedral’s construction was advancing but, once he got there, he received a report that dashed cold water over his victory.
“I am truly sorry, Your Highness,” Savan Roux, the lord of Guinbar, hung his head of grey hair. “I had guards keeping watch night and day but... they took their eyes off of him for a second...”
Togo, the son of the vassal-lord Darren, who had been in custody in Guinbar Castle, had been killed.
He had received a single sword stroke in the back. The killer must have been a man of considerable skill since Togo had probably died instantly. This had been neither a personal settling of accounts, nor a drunkard’s brawl. It was assassination.
And as to who it was who had ordered it...
Darren?
Leo thought of the man who had worn such an innocent expression at the time of the prince’s baptism. Within the bustling confusion caused by that huge crowd, had he perhaps been choosing a suitable place for Togo to be brought to and assassinated?
By using Togo as their trump card, they had once been able to drive Darren Actica into a corner, but now that Darren had personally gotten rid of that trump card – gotten rid of his own son – the danger posed by that vassal-lord would be resurrected.
Was this what was bred on Atall’s soil?
In that case...
From a parlour in the castle, Leo Attiel gazed into the distance.
In that case, there’s no choice but to change what grows on this soil.
The next enemy would be neither Allion nor Dytiann. Instead, it would be – “Atall.”
Reflecting the lights in the parlour, Leo’s eyes gleamed.
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