Editing Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume3 Chapter2 (section)

===Part 2===


Not surprisingly, Branton, the official witness, was thrown into confusion. He half rose from his seat and looked first towards the crimson-faced Bishop Baal, then towards the proud-looking Hawking but, in the end, he sat back down again without saying a word.

At that point, Hawking turned his attention towards Lord Leo, who was sitting next to Branton. From his attitude, it seemed as though Hawking had only just noticed that he was there, but this was very much an act. If Hawking found anything worthwhile in this meeting which he otherwise had absolutely no interest in, it was the fact that he might be able to grasp Leo Attiel’s personality.

Ever since withdrawing from the frontlines, Hawking had mostly been engaged in drawing up plans and gathering information. Through his own schemes, Hayden Swift had forcefully pushed the situation into his desired direction, and when Hayden had come to ask for his cooperation, those schemes had held a certain fascination for Hawking. He had even entrusted his own son to them.

Yet the result was that Hayden’s troops had been crushed.

By Leo Attiel.

Just what kind of man is he?

More than anger, what he felt was curiosity. Because of that, Hawking had gone to Jester Castle when the king had met directly with Leo, to see what he looked like. And since what he looked like was a normal, insignificant boy, Hawking’s interest had been piqued all the more.

''Now then, what moves will you make?''

He had felt a certain amount of anticipation, but, after all, Leo had kept quiet in front of all these powerful figures, remaining silent, with his eyes lowered. Hawking had been somewhat disappointed.

''Is he the kind of hothead who only shines on the battlefield? Or did he achieve those military exploits simply because his retainers had paved the way for him?''

With Atall unable to say anything, Hawking had taken the opportunity to press Dytiann still further. Which was when Baal, whose emotions were at breaking point, made a slip.

“I-Isn’t it you who first attacked the temple for no reason at all? You’ve been calling for apologies and for His Excellency Mordin to go to your capital, but aren’t you forgetting your own position?” He blurted out the words that Mordin had earlier managed to get him to control.

Naturally, Hawking would not let that chance slip.

Branton hurriedly intervened as both sides started to get heated.

“I-If the king of Allion and His Excellency Mordin were to meet, how about doing so at a castle in Atall?” he suggested.

If Mordin went to Allion, it would be nothing but a humiliation for Dytiann, but if they met in neutral Atall, both sides would save face. It would have been much like this current meeting, but Hawking was intent on bringing shame to his opponents.

“I would appreciate it if you gentlemen from Atall would keep quiet. This is between us.” The authority with which he turned him down threatened to overwhelm Branton.

The meeting was turning stormy.

Needless to say, Hawking Ingram was not being serious. Allion, however, had sufficient room for manoeuvre, so ''if they take it seriously, then fine.''

During the interview, Hawking had constantly been scrutinising the expressions worn by the representatives. The conclusion he had come to was that if the negotiations broke down now, neither Atall nor Dytiann had either the guts or the desire to mobilise their troops. Even if these talks were suspended, both of those sides would no doubt do everything they could to set up a new meeting.

Out of the three countries of Allion, Dytiann and Atall, it was after all Allion which was the most powerful. Although Hawking did want to avoid war, he also believed that it would not matter if these talks broke down. He was ready to rise from his seat and proclaim that “it will be too late for you to back down later!”

At the same time, however, ''if there is one person we need to be careful about…'' that was Mordin, who had come to take part in the meeting.

His presence at the talks was completely outside of Hawking’s predictions. Moreover, as he was, by nature, a man who was slow to express emotions, Hawking was having a hard time reading him.

''He’s a man of high standing. If I push too much now, he might decide to go to war on nothing but his own authority. Now then, how will you navigate these stormy seas? Will you bring things to an end or will you self-destruct?''

Hawking glared down at his surroundings, showing that he was prepared to leave if needs be, depending on what Dytiann and Atall would do. Baal was loudly arguing, but not a single one of his words was sincere, while Mordin remained silent, perhaps because he was hesitating. Branton was just looking around him in a panic.

Whereupon –

“Mordin, Your Excellency.”

Leo Attiel called out to Dytiann’s ‘king’. Having finally spoken after so long, what would he say?

“I am acquainted with the king of Allion. If you meet with him, I could come with you,” he offered.

For a moment, Hawking was as astounded as Stark, who sat behind the prince. Yet that quickly turned to gloating. ''Oho, so Atall’s prince has chosen to support us and to try and persuade Dytiann? Well, as expected, he has an eye for things. Even if it causes friction with Dytiann, they can’t take on Allion.''

At that moment, Leo looked straight towards Hawking. And smiled.

“Would His Majesty the King be willing to meet with me a second time?”

“But of course. His Majesty, King Jamil, frequently praises your bravery, Lord Leo. He has been telling us until our ears burn that he wishes the men of Allion had even a fraction of your daring, so I have no doubt that he sincerely wishes to see you again, Prince.”

Hawking spoke as though he was stroking the head of a puppy which had come to be hugged. And yet –

“Is that so? Certainly, when I think about it, the king of Allion was a gentleman who was courteous even to a shallow youth such as myself. When I said that I very much wished to meet him in person, he said that he would hate to have me travel all the way to his capital city, and went out of his way to select a meeting point that was halfway between the Anglatt domains and the capital. Naturally, he will also be anxious to meet with His Excellency Mordin. And it’s none other than Atall which is the halfway point between Allion and Dytiann. Yet, Sir Hawking, for some reason, you don’t really seem to favour that solution. So in that case, where would be a good place?”

“Hah?” Hawking exclaimed somewhat foolishly.

''What is this idiot of a prince talking about? What does he mean, ‘where would be good’? If anywhere within Allion would have done, I’d have said so from the start. The whole point for us is to have Mordin go to the capital. Does he want me to repeat myself?''

“Ah, no, Prince… Please hold on.”

''Given that it concerns our Allion and that Dytiann…''

Hawking realised the meaning behind the smile that Lord Leo had maintained throughout. Leo had stated that “I will accompany Mordin,” and furthermore, he had asked, “Would the king be willing to meet me?” By confirming the latter, Hawking had agreed to the former. In other words, he had agreed that the Principality of Atall was not unrelated to this matter.

''Bastard…''

Just as Hawking unintentionally fell silent, Leo spoke again.

“I would like to confirm this with our guests from Allion. The Kingdom of Allion no longer lays claim to Conscon Temple, is that not right?”

“Naturally. Peace has already been concluded in our king’s name.”

''What are you trying to do by going over all of this again, brat?'' Hawking scowled faintly at Leo, who did not turn his eyes away.

“Then that’s perfect. The land with the deepest connection to this matter is, of course, Conscon. His Majesty Jamil said that what happened was ‘an accumulation of misfortunes’. I share the same opinion. We must not risk repeating the same misfortune. Do you not agree that if the king of Allion were to go to Conscon, it would symbolically sweep away all of those misfortunes and misunderstandings?”

“Wait! You want our king to go to Conscon?”

“Yes,” Leo’s cheerful smile was unwavering. “If the king of Allion and His Excellency Mordin are to meet, there is nowhere more suitable. Isn’t that right? If they truly wish for peace, I hope that they will give it some consideration.”
[[Image: Leo_Attiel_Den_v03_076.png|thumb]]
''Why'' Conscon ''of all places?'' Faced with Leo’s beaming smile, Hawking Ingram chewed on the corner of his lip.

It was currently at peace with Allion but, obviously, it wasn’t the sort of place in which the man who held supreme power in Allion – which had once led hostilities against it – would currently want to set foot. Conversely, Dytiann had sent soldiers to their aid, so the temple was sure to warmly welcome them.

''The meeting between Mordin and the king is supposed to be a concession on Dytiann’s part, but does he intend to turn it into a concession from the king of Allion by having him go to the temple? And more than that, since the prince is personally concerned with this, it makes it difficult for us to refuse.''

While inwardly growling, Hawking outwardly presented a expression from which the interest was fading.

“Hmm, thinking about it, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”

He backed down. Which brought the talk about a meeting between ‘kings’ to an end. From the start, that had never been something Hawking was really aiming for. And with Allion pulling back from that issue, Dytiann was also more or less able to save face.

After this, Allion and Dytiann would follow the established route of continuing to exchange frequent messengers, and the talks came to an end.

Although all of those who had taken part in the meeting – including Stark Barsley, who had been observing closely from start to end – rose from their seats with calm expressions, all of them had but one name which similarly and deeply impressed itself upon their minds.



''Conscon.''

Hawking’s expression had turned ugly when he heard that name, but on their way back to Allion, the ship he was riding on had no choice but to drop anchor for a while at the temple.

Soldiers who had been wounded in battle, and who had thus been slow to escape, were being held there as prisoners of war. Given that locking them up was nothing but a burden in terms of time and money, those without status had been released. Those who were in any way prominent, however, had remained confined up until now.

It had been more than three months. Allion had deliberately ignored them in favour of investigating the relation between the temple and Dytiann. During the conference, Leo had promised Allion that they would be returned without any request for ransom.

Out of consideration for the feelings of those living on Mount Conscon, the air carrier landed some distance away from the foot of the mountain. Hawking himself had remained on board. “You go,” he had ordered one his retainers with a sour expression.

At the same time, the imprisoned captives were being let out of the building in which they had been kept, and were being made to stand in row. Warrior monks armed with spears and guns were keeping watch over them, with Camus at their head.

“You!” One of the prisoners of war shouted towards him in a violent – but unmistakably high-pitched – voice.

Looking at him, he was still young – probably about the same age as Kuon. However, unlike Kuon, who gave the impression of a somewhat feral child, this boy had a certain dignity in both expression and manner. Even though he had been held captive for over three months, it was clear at a glance that he was young but strong-willed.

“You’ve forgotten? I’m Randius!” Even though he was a captive, the boy puffed out his chest.

After thinking about it for a moment – ''Ah!'' – recognition seemed to dawn on Camus’ face, but he then proceeded to ignore the boy. That was how little importance he gave to him.

“You’ve got it now, right?” Randius, however, continued to talk in that voice of his which still had a trace of boyishness in it. “You were pretty good. Of all the monks at the temple, you were the strongest. That probably makes it even harder for you to have been defeated by me. You’re pretending not to recognise me and trying to look like it’s nothing big, but that’s just because you don’t want to admit how bitter you feel. I get it, I get it, you know?”

Camus pretended not to hear. The voice rose even higher into the blue sky.

“Did you all hear, warrior monks of Conscon? That man over there was defeated by me. And then, just before I could kill him, he managed to escape by having a sniper shoot at me. What a coward! Nobody with even the smallest knowledge of the art of fighting would act that way. Cowardly, underhanded and base a thousand times over!”

The spear in Camus’ hand started to shake and, in the next moment, he had suddenly rushed up to Randius.

“Who’s a coward? On the battlefield, taking you captive makes me the winner, getting caught makes you the loser. There’s nothing else to it!”

“Shut up you pathetic fool who pretends to get your power from God. Both our wounds should have healed by now, so let’s have another round!”

“Victory has already been decided. Look, they’ve come from your country to take you back. I don’t care whether it’s by ship or on horseback, but hurry up and leave these sacred grounds, you little cretin.”

“Are you afraid of losing again, warrior monk? Actually, no – I’ve heard your name. It’s Camus, right? If you’re even half a warrior, have a rematch with me, one-to-one. If you don’t, then don’t think that battlefield is over yet.”

Randius was still shouting. Just then –

“Please do so later, Master Randius.”

The one who spoke was a man who had come for the prisoners, and who had already come up to the two of them. Not having been given a chance to explain himself, Randius’ face flushed bright red and he turned to look at who had spoken, before suddenly exclaiming – “Ah!”

“Igor, it’s been forever! Don’t tell me you’ve been sent to fetch me?” Randius’ face broke into a boyish smile. “Perfect timing. Give me your sword; I need to settle things with this guy.”

“And I ask that you do so at some later time.”

“What did you say? Even you – even though you’ve served Father for a long time, if Father hears about this, he’ll be furious. How can you not help his son wipe out his disgrace and…”

“Have you not heard about it?” The middle-aged man said with a grin. “I’ve just returned from Atall. I was waiting on your father, who was attending the conference with Dytiann.”

“Father… Father came here?”

Randius’ ruddy face underwent a complete transformation as the blood drained from it at an almost frightening speed. Igor bit back a smile.

“Your father is waiting for you at the ship. Now then, we mustn’t take up too much time with these gentlemen of the temple. Young master, you know that Lord Hawking hates nothing as much as being kept waiting.”

“I-I know,” Randius had turned astonishingly meek. Still, as they were heading towards the ship, he turned once to look back.

“Camus! We’ll postpone settling things for now,” he did not forget to call out.

“What’s with that young cub!”

Camus was snorting with indignation, as his sister came to stand beside him.

“It looks like you have a fated connected with that eligible young bachelor,” she teased. “Wouldn’t it have been better to bring things to an end? Couldn’t you have settled it in a second?”

“I don’t wield my spear for no good reason,” Camus sullenly replied.

Just as Igor had done earlier, Sarah had to fight back a smile. Actually, nobody wanted to settle things more than her brother did. In that battle, Camus had fought like one possessed, but because of that, he ran himself into complete exhaustion, and it was when both his body and mind had reached their limit that the boy had challenged him. He had taken a cut to the leg and had been pushed back until he had been on the verge of losing his life, only to be saved by a bullet fired by Sarah.

''I would never have been defeated by that kind of brat if I’d been in peak condition'' – there was no doubt that Camus, who fundamentally hated losing, felt that way. Which was why he had probably very much wanted to accept when Randius had challenged him to a rematch.

But as one who followed God’s teachings, he was desperately trying to convince himself that “On the battlefield, a win is a win.”

It was because she understood his anguish very clearly that Sarah was so amused.



While Hawking and the others were returning to Allion, Lord Mordin and Bishop Baal were sailing back to Dytiann.

The two of them had spent their time in separate cabins but, having entered Dytiann’s territory, they disembarked at a location some distance away from the cathedral. It was forbidden to ride up to Dytiann Cathedral in an air carrier, and Mordin was no exception. Or more accurately, it was Mordin himself who had created the rule.

''People should not brazenly dance near the sky in those holy precincts'', was the explanation that was given. The real reason, of course, was to protect the cathedral.

Mordin and Baal were jolted about in the same carriage as they travelled the road leading to it. For a while, the two of them remained silent but, when the sun had almost sunk out of view behind the forest, Mordin abruptly spoke up, startling Baal.

“The prince helped us out.”

Seen from the side in the setting sun, Mordin’s appearance was even more like a wild beast’s than usual.

“He holds considerable talent.”

“B-But, Your Excellency…”

“I know.” Since Mordin was gazing straight ahead, seen from the side, it seemed as though he was just muttering to himself. “That’s what convinced me. Just as you said, that young lord definitely pretended to request reinforcements and caught Arthur in a trap.”

“Yes.”

“Subjugating Atall will be a fitting pledge to offer to God. But, Baal…”

“I understand, Your Excellency,” Baal’s expression turned solemn.

There was no one else in the carriage. There was nothing to fear from the coachman either, as he was out of earshot. Yet even so, Baal lowered his voice still further.

“Now is the time for caution. So that very soon, Your Excellency will single-handedly hold all real power within the Church.”



After the representatives of Allion and Dytiann left Atall, the higher-ups decided that the talks had, at least for the time being, been a success.

Numerous voices rose in praise of Branton, who had skilfully served his role as a witness. Branton outwardly received those plaudits with modesty, saying that “I showed my face, nothing more,” but Percy, who had also been present at the meeting, was strangely concerned about Branton’s manner right after it had ended.

After both sets of envoys had left, he had walked up to Leo.

“You saved me,” Branton had said. “It’s a good thing you were there. Being deceived like that by Allion, we would probably have lost any chance of smoothing things with Dytiann.”

His words had been sincere. But for that very reason, Percy had been all the more aware of the unease in the smile that he had given Leo. There was no sense of jealousy or hostility towards his younger brother. Rather, it had seemed like he didn’t have the strength to smile. He seemed to be depressed.

Even so, Percy had no tangible cause for concern, so he did not speak about it. Instead, as they were leaving the castle which had served as the stage for the meeting, he talked to Leo on a different topic.

They had avoided any deterioration in their relations with Allion and Dytiann, but that was only on the surface. In fact, seeing the two of them together had highlighted that both sides had the same thought: ''The present situation is as it is, but one day, this is an enemy we will cross swords with''. On this, at least, Leo and Percy were in agreement.

“It felt a though even if right now their interactions are courteous, it would only take one chance opportunity for a massive war to erupt.”

“And when that happens, the blade will definitely fall on Atall,” Leo wore a thoughtful expression.

He did not say anything further, but Percy had learned to read this prince’s mind, even if only a little. ''That means that we can’t be negligent in our preparations. Whatever direction the blade falls from, we can raise a shield overhead. And from the openings in the shield, we can thrust out a spear at any time.''

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Leo spoke again after a while.

“What is?”

“I’m not sure how to put it – Oh, right, for example: when I was living in Allion, I never imagined that I would meet people like Mordin or Hawking. Or, obviously, that I would watch them discuss their countries’ policies right in front of me. And that wasn’t a problem. There was nothing missing in my life, at least as far as being to able live it went.”

“Right.”

“But seeing them like that, watching as they tackle discussions that might involve entire countries in turmoil – I can’t believe that I used to live such a carefree life. Even though so many strategies are mapped out in this world, even though there are people who are like gods in that they’re playing a game far above the heads of the people and the soldiers, and who, with just a single word, can mobilise ten thousand, or a hundred men… I didn’t have even the slightest sense of crisis, and all I thought about were things like what was supper going to be that evening, what book would I read that night, or wouldn’t it be nice if tomorrow was sunny...”

Percy understood what Leo was trying to say. After all, he too had started to become aware of a similar sort of feeling to what the prince was describing.

“I also look with consternation on how I used to know nothing.”

“Right, consternation. And what I find especially appalling is that there are so few people who have that in common, here in Atall.”

Percy very much shared that feeling.

When taking their first step into society, it was common for young people to feel fearful of that world which was so much wider than anything they could have imagined, and that they were starting to catch glimpses of.

At the same time, they felt scornful of their previous, ignorant self. And simultaneously, some people would start to lament that ''I’m the only one who understands'', and those laments were close to being a sort of superiority complex. In other words, they would look at the people around them and think forlornly “They live their lives without noticing a thing. How can they be so stupid and slow?” And they looked down in mocking contempt at everyone – their present self excepted and their old self included.

At that time, Leo Attiel was in a frame of mind that closely resembled that. And, as often happens when young men feel a sense of superiority, his desire to change the current situation as quickly as possible, even if it was only by a second earlier, invited impatience.

''I have to make them understand'', thought Leo. ''Those fools who think that simply avoiding the pebbles that they can see in front of them is enough to protect themselves, their property and their country – I’ll make them understand that war isn’t something you see in front of you, that it’s always lurking in the shadows underfoot. And I’ll show them what they need to do to protect the people and their belongings.''