Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume8 Chapter1 (section)

=== Part 1 ===

Even though it was not yet close to morning, the streets of Taúlia were filled with a jumbled crowd of people.

A noisy hubbub filled squares, back alleys, and all around. 

Smoke rose from one corner of the town. Buildings had been reduced to rubble and lay scattered around the neighbourhood. Not, however, because of an enemy assault. The one who had ordered cannons to be fired at them was none other than the general in charge of all the troops in Taúlia, Bouwen Tedos.

Naturally, just before that, Bouwen had the populace take shelter.  Whether they had wanted to or not, knocks on their doors had roused people from their beds. As they had finished carrying their household goods outside, with the help of the soldiers, the preparations for the guns were being arranged. Before long, the roar of cannons and the impact of the explosions had torn the everyone in the city from their sleep.

"War again?"

As they gathered at a distance around the rising flames, the people looked at each other gloomily.

War was not rare in the west. Battles arose every day in one place or another. But it was clear from their faces that they were pretty well fed up with it. Such was the extent to which the assault by Garda's army, which had plunged the entire region into turmoil, had transformed the mood in the west.

"Is it the remnants of Garda's army?"

"Cherik tried to keep Taúlia in check previously and might have moved its troops. Isn't that it?"

"No," a man who had an acquaintance at Court, and so was well-informed, shook his head. "You'll be amazed when you hear. They say the opponent is Mephius."

"Nonsense!"

It was proof of how the west had changed that a voice immediately rose to refute him. Compared to in the past, the anti-Mephius feeling within Taúlia had also shifted considerably.

The inhabitants of Taúlia remembered how, just a few months ago, Mephius' Crown Prince Gil had clearly been waving his hand as he rode through their streets alongside their lord, Ax. It had been at that time that the two countries, which had been long-standing enemies, had almost miraculously been bound in friendship. However–

"Prince Gil is no longer with us."

Imperial Prince Gil had been betrayed by a vassal and his young life had been torn to nothing. The people of Taúlia naturally knew this fact. It was surely because that retainer could not gladly accept the peace negotiations with Taúlia.

"They even say that it was the Emperor himself who gave the order."

"But because Prince Gil died..." an elderly man shook his grizzled beard.

"Even so, it’s wrong of them to say that there's no need to keep the promise with the west, isn't it!"

"There's no point getting mad at me."

"Whatever the case, it'd be nice if it doesn't drag on too long. The fields outside are going to be wrecked all over again."

When night had almost completely lifted and the morning light shone on the people in whose faces anger and gloom overlapped, soldiers acting as forward messengers came rushing up and shouts erupted all around the town. 

"They're returning in triumph, they're returning in triumph."

"A triumphal return!"

In that instant, it felt as though the dark atmosphere that had settled in the town was completely dispelled with the morning sun.

The gates were thrown open and Taúlia's troops, Bouwen at their head, rode in one after another. There were the orderly echoes of horseshoes, the jaunty figures of the soldiers, and the bold sharpness of the spears held high.

Even those who had been exchanging glances with worried faces until just a moment ago, now wore bright expressions and greeted them with cheers. All else aside, they had won. All else aside, Taúlia had protected their lives, their belongings, and their families.

Bouwen waved his hand in response to the crowd's welcome. Although he was young, he was the commander-in-chief who shouldered the entire responsibility for Taúlia's defence while Ax was away. He had achieved fame by protecting the city, along with Princess Esmena, when Raswan Bazgan had risen in rebellion.

Along with the hero-king Ax, who had defeated Garda, he was the pride of the people of Taúlia. Bouwen had once again demonstrated his rare talent and had protected them from the calamity of the ravages of war. The people could still vividly remember the feeling of victory after Garda's defeat. Now that they were tasting it again, even though they didn't know the details, even though the enemy's name was unclear, they were for a while intoxicated with ecstasy.

But Bouwen's emotions, as he smiled left and right from atop his horse, were anything but carefree. He sensed that, rather than it being over with this, the fight had only just begun. Just as it had been rumoured among part of the population, the identity of the enemy that had attacked Taúlia was the neighbouring country, Mephius. They had also received information that military forces still remained in the border fortress of Apta.

Bouwen had already sent a request for reinforcements throughout the west. But if the number of their troops swelled up because of that, and Mephius still did not give up on its invasion, he was afraid that it might escalate into all-out war.

Garda's rampage and his subjugation had exhausted the west. Did it really have enough strength left to prevail in such a large-scale fight?

''And on top of that...''

If Ax and Bouwen were heroes, there was one other who had gained renown in the war against Garda. But his figure was not to be seen in the long line following behind.

For a moment, as Bouwen Tedos pondered about that hero, his smile was tinged with gloom.
 



"Hang in there."

"Your child is going to be born soon right? What's going to happen if its father isn't around!" 

On one side, Bouwen's soldiers were marching in a grand parade along the main avenues –

While in Taúlia's back alleys, the soldiers who were too wounded to walk were being transported on carts and stretchers while their friends encouraged them.

There were those who had taken a bullet to the stomach, those who had an arm or a leg cut off, those who had their bones crushed by being trampled by a dragon... there were also those among them who were so badly injured that it would be difficult to find a part of them that was unharmed. One of them, his face covered in streams of his own blackened blood, had died.

And also –

"Orba!"

The swordsman who was being thus called, was in one of the carts. It was undoubtedly Orba, the masked swordsman who had defeated Garda; but now, a number of cracks ran through the mask that was like his symbol and almost half of its left side had been blown away. Nonetheless, the colour of his bare skin could not be seen. It was completely hidden under viscous, flowing blood.

"Orba... Orba... Hang in there. You're not going to fall here, right."

Shique and Gilliam were racing through the back alleys, keeping up on either side with the cart that was carrying him. For a while now, Shique had been repeatedly reaching out towards him, as though to shake him awake.

Several times already Gilliam had stopped him, saying "It's best not to touch him for now," and each time Shique had complied, only to do the same thing again a few seconds later.

Right then, Orba was racked by a violent coughing fit. The foam of blood that had been hardening like a paste around his mouth was shaken off. "Orba!" Shique kept calling his name.

There was no answer. Even though he was breathing, he had all but lost consciousness. Watching as his chest heaved violently but at times weakly, Shique held his own breath.

The previous evening, the few remaining forces left within the city walls of Taúlia had ambushed the Mephian army which had suddenly crossed the border. As a matter of course, Orba’s mercenary unit had been added to them. Moreover, on Bouwen’s decision, they had been entrusted with a pivotal strategic position.

Orba’s unit had accomplished their mission magnificently. After ambushing the enemy’s detached force in a surprise attack and annihilating them, they had ridden to their opponents’ main army, which was hot on the heels of Bouwen’s "fleeing" forces, and charged at their flank.

It happened after they had won the hard-fought battle and just as it seemed that Mephius’ army had finally been driven back.

Orba had been shot at by an enemy soldier who was concealed among the corpses. The bullet had essentially brushed against his mask and his head had not taken a direct hit, but the impact had been fierce and Orba had been knocked unconscious from his horse.

The left side of his mask had been blown away. But in the situation, the remaining half was the greater problem. The countless cracks running through the mask were biting into his forehead and were, even now, causing his blood to flow continuously.

“Shit,” Gilliam groaned as he ran alongside the cart. “He was as fit as a fiddle even when he defeated Garda and now you’re saying he’s going to be killed by Mephians like us?”

“He isn’t going to die!” Shique screamed. Compared to his usual self, his face was like another person’s. “He, at a point like this… He won’t die. There’s so much more he…”

“Ah-ha, yeah. Right. That’s right. We’re gladiators who lived through hell. We’ve given the slip to death time and time again. Especially this guy. If it comes calling, he’ll just pretend to be out or something.”

The wounded were carried to the barracks' courtyard. The commanders or those who were related to Taúlian aristocrats were carried to exclusive medical facilities, but soldiers other than them were sent to simple tents set up in the courtyard. Dark-skinned doctors rushed about, the white robes that indicated their status becoming dyed in blood.

Soldiers who couldn't fit in the tents were stretched out on mats in the courtyard.

"This way."

Several soldiers rushed up to where Orba had been lifted from the cart and were about to place him on a stretcher. They had apparently received orders to, as consideration towards the hero, make an exception and carry him to the medical room. However –

"Wait," Shique blocked them sharply. "Let him rest a bit here. He’s completely worn out. Orba, do you need water?"

He offered his own water canteen to Orba, who was laid out on the ground. As Orba's consciousness seemed to still be hazy, there was no reaction. Shique dripped a little water onto his dry lips.

"Oi, it's better to hurry."

Gilliam urged from behind him, but for some reason, Shique didn't want to get up. He grasped Orba's hand as though trying to offer him even just a little of his own warmth. While on the one hand he was worrying about his health like a mother would, a different concern was also occupying Shique's mind.

''It will be absolutely necessary to take off the mask for treatment.''

And naturally, that meant that Orba's face would be exposed for all to see.

Just as in the townspeople's earlier recollections, many of Taúlia's inhabitants had seen Gil Mephius' face.

He didn't know how many of them there were who would remember it after only having seen it once, and then only for a few seconds. What would happen if even only one person had scrupulously memorised Orba's undisguised face?

''Dammit.''

Behind him, Gilliam once again asked him what he was doing. And of course, Shique also wanted to hurry. He wanted to have him be treated as soon as possible.

''If it comes down to it, even if it's a ridiculous explanation, I'll just have to say that it's a case of different people looking a lot alike.''

Because he resembled the crown prince and that caused all sorts of disasters, in the end, he had put on a mask and fled from Mephius... There was no alternative.

Just as Shique was finally about to stand up, an unexpected person stepped into the courtyard filled with the wounded.

''T-This is'' - The instant he saw who it was, Shique gulped and rose to stand between that person and Orba. "She" was one of the people who knew Gil's real face well.

"P-Princess. How is this possible. Why is the princess in a place like..."

"You said your name was Shique, did you not?"

It was Esmena Bazgan.

Lord Ax Bazgan's daughter, Esmena, had her hands clasped before her waist and her demeanour was utterly calm; yet even so her eyes blazed with a determined light.

The soldiers also noticed her and quickly stood to attention. Even among the injured, there were those who tried to force themselves to rise and bow to her. Esmena held up a hand to stop them.

“Everyone, please be at ease,” she said in her gentle voice. “You are the braves who protected Taúlia. Please take care now to rest well.”

Although she spoke cheerfully, Esmena’s face was pale. There were soldiers who had lost an eye. There were half-naked soldiers who had taken bullets and whose sinews were swollen and distorted. There were soldiers whose fingers or ears had been sliced off. For Esmena, who was seeing something like this for the first time, it was like a scene from Hell itself.

For a Court-bred lady, it would not have been surprising if she had fainted at a single glance, but –

“Shique,” she walked towards the Mephian mercenary, “I heard that Orba is here.”

“Eh?”

“I heard that the hero was carried here. Where is he now…”

As he hadn't thought that Taúlia's princess would personally come to see Orba, Shique was for a moment flabbergasted.

During the opening that created, Esmena caught sight of Orba from over Shique' shoulder. She to, for a moment, was left speechless. When Shique noticed, he shifted his position to obstruct her line of sight, but –

"Somebody. Is there anybody here?" Esmena called out in an unexpectedly loud voice. The soldiers who had been about to carry Orba away rushed up. "How long do you intend to leave this gentleman to sleep on the ground? Hurry and take him inside."

"R-Right away. On General Bouwen's orders, we were about to carry Captain Orba away."

"This is the great hero who saved the west. In a manner of speaking, his concerns are the country's concerns. Please move him to the detached wing of the castle. I will call one of the Court physicians."

"P-Princess."

Unusually for Shique, he was so stunned that he couldn't say anything. While on one hand he felt that this was the safest for Orba's health, on the other it would be dangerous letting the princess, who knew Gil's face so well, get any closer to him.

"We should not expose his face to too many people either," Esmena said decisively. Shique was now taken aback for a different reason. "Taúlia is not so ungrateful as to ignore the hero's wishes and expose what he has hidden. Now, Shique. Please lend your help."

As she said that, she lowered an eyelid slightly. In a way, that surprised Shique more than anything.

''Don't tell me'' – the thought flashed through his brain – ''don't tell me that the princess knows about Orba and Gil?''

Esmena had been captured by Garda, and the one to save her had been none other than Orba. Probably in order to thank him, she had invited Orba to her chambers after returning to Taúlia. What had passed between them at that time?

Shique's mind was in turmoil over a number of things; but at any rate, it was certain that Orba's face could not be exposed to any great number of people.

He accompanied those carrying Orba on the stretcher. Gilliam watched at a distance as their figures left the rear courtyard and disappeared into a corridor that led to the castle.

The mercenaries from the same unit belatedly arrived. When they heard that their captain was apparently going to receive treatment at the Court, for a while, they looked relieved. But –

"The victory celebration... I don't really feel like it," said Talcott.

"No, I'm going to be drinking the liquor we're offered," Gilliam shook his beard as he spoke. "I know myself: I can't sit around quietly worrying about a friend in that state."

"There's that too."

Talcott energetically swung his left arm. He seemed to have taken a blow from an axe to his armguard and was still feeling numb.

"Mephius is going to come back, isn't it?"

"Probably."

"But above all, just when it looks like we could carry on with the mercenary business, the opponent is Mephius of all things. It means that, even apart from the injury, things are going to get bad for the captain."

Although he was young, Talcott had grown worldly-wise from switching between all sorts, from a pirate to a nomad to a mercenary. His words half sounded like a prediction, and even Gilliam couldn't help but feel a touch of anxiety.

Arriving in an annex of the castle, Esmena left the room for a moment and had her ladies' maids call a doctor she was acquainted with. She had known him for a long time and he was the previous Grand Steward of the Court Physicians. He was already advanced in age but his skill at surgery was certain. His name was Faisal.

Naturally Esmena chose him because of the trust she had in his character and talent, but there was one other important reason. Previously, when Gil Mephius had come to Taúlia as a goodwill envoy, Faisal himself had been sick and in bed. Esmena remembered it because after the reception banquet for Gil was over, she had personally paid him a get-well visit. In other words, Faisal did not know Gil's face.

Although it was early in the morning, Faisal had readily agreed to Esmena's request.

"Oh, that tiny little princess appointed me herself?"

It had to be said that Esmena had been raised in an overprotective way. So from when she was much younger, whenever she had a cold or whenever she had fallen outside, Ax would summon Faisal. Whether it was the dead of night, whether he was in middle of examining other patients, at any and all times.

He was a doctor who was already in his sixties. But he was still sprightly. He was also a long-time associate of Ravan Dol's, whose injuries he was currently treating.

Led by a soldier, he entered the room where Orba had been laid.

And witnessed a strange scene.

A man who looked like a woman was almost entirely draped over the patient who was lying flat. He appeared to be taking advantage of the confusion to strip the wounded man of all of his possessions.

"What are you doing!" Faisal shouted but the other didn't act as though he were surprised. His face glistening with sweat, he seemed to be winding fresh bandages around the injured person's upper body.

"I will take over from here. Amateurs can draw back." At first glance, Faisal had a gentle appearance but when it came to medical matters he was as overpowering as a general.

"Don't come closer!" The man who looked like a woman – Shique, naturally – yelled back.

He was wondering whether the man had lost his sanity but the eyes that stared back at him held an unexpectedly intellectual light and Faisal halted his steps with an air of surprise.

Shique finished wrapping the bandages then quietly laid Orba down. Looking at him, the bandage was completely coiled around him from his chest to his abdomen.

Shique jumped off the bed and went towards Faisal. "It's something like a Mephian charm," he explained in a completely different tone. "Someone who is close to the injured person envelops them in sincerity and wraps a bandage around them. Ah, it doesn't have to be where they were actually wounded. Until after he wakes up, please don't take it off without permission. Or you will lose your life to a curse."

At that moment, his expression was one of restrained fury. Rather than a "curse", this man himself might turn his blade against him with murderous intent if he broke his word.

Faisal gazed for a while at that expression of Shique's.

"I get it," he scratched his head and agreed. "I hate a wife's nagging about as much as I do curses and sorcery."

Shique bowed as though to signal that he entrusted the rest to him and left the room. The reason for the bandages was to hide the slave mark branded into Orba's back.  The people in Taúlia knew that Orba was a former sword slave, but who knew what would happen from here on. He was preparing for a situation in which it became known that Orba was Gil Mephius.

Shique trusted that he had done everything he could. He didn't believe in any god worshipped in this world, so he didn't pray. From here on, he could only bet on Orba's own luck and vitality.

As he leaned against the wall. He felt like he could hear his body, which had been overexerted since the previous evening, screaming.

''Is he going to be killed by Mephians like us?''

The words Gilliam had muttered earlier floated across his mind.

''Mephians? Right, we're also Mephians, huh?''

Gilliam probably hadn't previously had any particular awareness that he was a Mephian. But after coming to the west, he couldn't help but become conscious of the difference in nationality. The same went for Shique.

''Orba... Is also Mephian. There's no denying it.''

The sun was about to rise. As he walked along the corridor that ran from the castle annex to the courtyard, a warm wind blew from the side.

He gazed up at the sky that was turning blue. There, on the other side of a border that he couldn't see, was Mephius. Mephius, which was the current enemy and also his native country.