Editing Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume2 Chapter7 (section)

===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?”
[[Image: Leo_Attiel_Den_v02_296.png|thumb]]

“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.