Editing Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume4 Chapter3 (section)

===Part 2===


Riding at the centre of his main force, Darren Actica doubted his ears when he heard the report from the unit sent to attack the church.

“That's absurd! Impossible!”

How many times had Darren used the words 'absurd' and 'impossible' since he and Leo had started opposing one another?

It was obvious that both Savan Roux and Leo Attiel had grown careless after the sovereign-prince had dispatched envoys. Leo had left Guinbar, and Savan had opened a market near the church. It was the perfect opportunity; Darren's troops were at the ready, and he made the most of the envoy who had been sent to him to fabricate an excuse, and to give them the signal to march on Guinbar.

And now, his plan to first burn down the market place and destroy the church while simultaneously advancing on Guinbar had been foiled.

''They did suspect something? No, there aren't enough of them for an ambush. Leo shouldn't have any troops he can move, and even if Savan desperately scrapes up as many men as he can, we should have at least twice, or even three times their numbers. So what's the scale of this force? And its line-up?'' Endless worries assailed him.

The only thing that was certain, was that the unexpected had occurred. He no needed time to reorganise himself.

“It looks like when they attacked us on the day of the festival, they had also predicted how we would react. As expected of Leo and Savan, those cunning bastards.”

He deliberately avoided showing how shaken he was, and retreated for the time being to a village on the very edge of his domains.



The same report reached Leo a little bit later than it had Darren, at just about the time when Leo was thinking off going to the enemy's camp to make them stop their attack.

Since the information was based on what had leaked out from Darren's camp and from the village where they had taken up position, the identity and exact scale of the friendly reinforcements which had suddenly appeared was unknown. It was clear from the report, however, that the forces which driven had Darren back were neither from Atall, nor from any of the surrounding countries, and Leo had an immediate intuition of who it might be.

''Is it Kuon?''

It was as though the clouds covering the sky had parted, and the sun was shining brightly through. At with it, Leo stood up and set to work with so much energy, it was hard to believe that up until then, he had been sitting hugging his knees. He had messengers come and go incessantly until he had gathered all possible information.

It looked like it really was Kuon who had arrived with reinforcements. However, he was remaining by the church, without setting off to meet up with Leo. Darren's sphere of influence extended to the east of him. ''Perfect'', thought Leo. At the same time as he sent a direct messenger to Kuon, he also ordered Bernard to assemble his battle flags.

“What do you intend to do?”

“You just need to collect the flags together. You don't need to do anything else afterwards, so don't get in my way at least.”

Bernard was half astonished, half exasperated by Leo's attitude and manner of speaking. When Stark had been coercing him, Leo had looked sulky then, just as his emotions seemed about to erupt, he had sat hugging his knees, as depressed as thought the world were ending. And now, here he was, as cool and calm as a military commander.

''He's just like a little child'', he thought. At the same, he felt a certain admiration: ''But right now, there's a sharpness to him that could cut anyone who touched him.''

Stark Barsley had already left the castle. However, even though he was preceded by a messenger on a swift horse, it would still take some time before the sovereign-prince was informed of what was going on. Not so long ago, Leo had been impatient for that, but now, he thought the exact opposite: he needed to settle things before his father interceded.

''This time...'' Leo's face still had lingering traces of childishness, but the expression he wore tightened.

For the next few days, he went around the villages in the western part of Bernard's territory – which meant the ones which were nearest to Dharam – gathering young men. In the past, people had said that he was 'headhunting' in the outskirts of Guinbar, but this time, Leo had no intention of taking these men as soldiers.

He travelled to the domain's border, and there set up camp in the ruins of an old temple. The building had existed before Atall had even been a country, and only hermits or recluses went anywhere near it nowadays, but Leo had provisions and men transported there.

The people he had gathered were set to work digging up the surroundings all day long. They piled up earth close to the temple, and managed to complete an improvised moat and defensive wall.

Inside the camp, Leo flew the flags that Bernard had collected for him. He also chose several men from among the warrior monks, and sent them to villages in the Dharam area. Dressed in their priestly robes, they went around all over, spreading rumours while pretending to zealously be preaching their faith.

“Bernard seems to have joined forces with Lord Leo.”

“If Lord Actica invades Guinbar, the prince will certainly attack from the rear with the forces that Bernard has lent him.”

“When that happens, the villages will definitely suffer. You need to keep a close watch on that camp, so that when the prince sets out, you can evacuate as quickly as possible.”

Those rumours spread through the villages like wildfire. Naturally, Darren, who was waiting for a chance to lead a new invasion, could not afford to ignore them.

Right after his first attempt had been blocked, he had ordered the marauders, who were lying in wait throughout Guinbar's territory, to start increasing their activities. As a result, Savan had suddenly found his hands were tied. He had sent five hundred soldiers to the Old Highway, where the fake bandits had taken up position, but it looked like that was the limit in terms of troops that he could afford to move around, and since then, there had been no obvious movement from Guinbar.

''Good. With this, I still have a chance at victory''. Darren licked his lips with satisfaction, but still, the information that Bernard might attack from behind was extremely problematic.

Having said that, Darren could not afford to waste too much time. Just like Leo, he felt that he needed to finish things before the sovereign-prince could intervene. Events were currently uncertain and unsettled, which was exactly why he had to force them into moving towards his goal. Because once his movements were brought to a halt, it would take a lot of time and effort to get the situation to change again.

I may have said this before but Leo and Darren were surprisingly alike in that shared belief.

“Summon Lance Mazpotter,” Darren ordered.

He had never personally met him. And as for the messenger that Lance had once sent him, the man's attitude had been so overbearingly arrogant that Darren hadn't been able to stomach him.

''It's easy to tell what kind of person his leader Lance is'', he had thought at the time. Darren was proud of being the most influential of all Atall's vassal-lords, and Lance was definitely not someone he wanted to meet firsthand.

Still – He's a man I can use. There was no denying that. In all honesty, with his skill, it wouldn't have been in the least bit surprising if he had been in command of a thousand, or even ten thousand, soldiers for some country somewhere. But perhaps the man called Lance found pleasure in leading a band of marauders, and when, after the battle at Olt Rose, Darren had hinted that he wouldn't mind officially hiring him, Lance had sent someone to decline the offer.

''What a fool. The day I defeat Leo and take Guinbar, I'll just appoint him to something in my new territory.''

Lance didn't have any aspirations. He wasn't capable of having them; at the end of the day, he was a man well-suited to living like a stray dog. Darren found him hard to understand, but at least he served his purpose.

Anyway, having heard that Lance had arrived, Darren had him allowed into his pavilion. And was instantly left feeling bewildered. The one who appeared was a tall man with an eye patch over his left eye; it was that self-same insolent messenger.

No matter how much he might dislike the other party, Darren had intended to welcome him warmly – feeding the dog a bone, so to speak – but now...

“Where's Lance?” his voice was unintentionally laced with fury. “I'm not talking to the likes of you. Go get your leader.”

“What funny things you say,” said the man with the eye patch. But he was not smiling. “By the way, I don't think I ever introduced myself, Lord Actica. ''I'm'' Lance Mazpotter. I've lived for nearly forty years, but I've never been called by any other name, and in my unit, there's no one else by the name of Lance, either.”

“What?” Darren's mouth dropped open.

The one in front of him did not seem to be either lying or joking. Then it must be the truth. This man, in light armour and with his long hair bunched up behind his head, really was Lance. Which meant that previously, when Leo's army had been in position right in front of Olt Rose Castle, the leader of the unit had snuck in alone to meet with Darren.

Lord Actica wiped the sweat that was oozing from his brow.

“I see... in that case, I apologise. I would never have imagined that you were Sir Lance in person, and...”

“Drop it,” Lance was as haughty as ever. “And? What do you want?”

Darren felt fury well up within him, but he somehow managed to swallow it back down, and talked about the encampment within the ruined temple in Bernard's territory.

“I'm not saying that it needs to fall right this second. I just want you to cause enough trouble at the camp that they won't be able to interfere when we take Guinbar.”

“I see. It's certainly the perfect mission for us,” Lance nodded, looking completely unruffled.

His forte lay in making use of horses, and he had once played Leo's forces for fools by repeatedly charging at them then withdrawing. It would be child's play to confine the enemy within a small area.

Darren didn't like the man, but he appreciated that he caught on fast. Feeling generous, he saw him off at the end with a gracious smile and a few parting words:

“They say that Leo is there. That damned whelp fancies himself a hero, so he probably resents you for having defeated him, Sir Lance. If he heads out, I won't mind even if you kill him.”

Lance nodded for appearances' sake, but, in a low voice, he murmured: ‘’I wonder.’’



Lance Mazpotter.

He was said to hail from Atall, but no details were known about where his birthplace was specifically, what his father's occupation had been, or when it was that he had left the principality.

When he was in his twenties, his fame had started to grow in the northern coastal countries as a bandit and pirate captain. After a number of feats impressive enough to be widely retold, he had suddenly started commanding a navy ship for Tallnia, one of said coastal countries. He spent about two years in the very navy which had been his natural enemy during his pirate days. His life was relatively well-established: adored by the sailors of Tallnia and with countless rumours floating around about his affairs with court ladies, Lance had achieved a certain pinnacle of success. Yet, and again very abruptly, he then fled Tallnia, leaving behind words to the effect that "I got tired of the sea".

According to one opinion, he had escaped because his life was being targeted due women-related problems.

He returned to Atall as he was nearing the end of his twenties, and became a mercenary along with several companions who had followed him since his days as a pirate. As there was, however, practically no work to be found in Atall, he got tired of touring around it as a hired soldier, and immediately started in the marauding trade.

These marauders were, so to speak, employed by rural domain lords – or, better said, they received their tacit consent to actions such as forcing merchants and travellers at the borders of the domain to employ them as escorts, or arbitrarily setting up barriers and collecting high tolls from them, since they also acted as domain guards. Their functions also included occasionally heading off to another territory or country at the request of the local ruler, and there attacking villages ad ports, snatching cattle and crops, or setting fire to houses and ships. Since nothing they did could be ascribed to any country or military, and as they could be thrown away whenever one wanted, they were very convenient for Atall and its surrounding countries.

The marauder business seemed to strangely suit Lance's nature. He who had quickly tired of both piracy and being in the navy moved all over Atall plying this trade. He would be hired one day by a domain lord to set fire to another fief's fields, then the very next day, having been employed by the farming families in that land, he would crush the domain lord's troops while the latter was still planning his next and final move. Right after being rewarded by merchants whom he had escorted to a safe destination, he would receive a request from poverty-stricken nearby villages and would then plunder the merchants' goods, and split them equally with the villagers.

It had nothing to do with beliefs. He accepted whichever requests he pleased. Nor was he particularly interested in money. Nonetheless, once Lance Mazpotter accepted a request, he would never abandon it halfway. And he always carried it through successfully. It was only ever the day after he had completed a request that he would switch over to the other side. Those were, so to speak, his 'aesthetics'.

For the past ten years or so, Lance had been fond of horses, had loved war, and had shared his bed with women and drink. However –

‘’I just kinda..’’

– He had reached the point of wondering if he was tiring of this, too. Of late, he had not come across either a battle or a woman that set his blood aflame.

Having said that, he was not thinking of officially entering any country's employ at this late hour. When Darren had made his offer, Lance had likewise turned it down. It would be wrong to say that he was now feeling pessimistic enough to be 'looking for a place to die'.

Since it was only on the level of "not all that fun," Lance accepted that there was no other choice but to put up with it.

‘’Ride, plunder, kill and set fire until the day you can no longer move and are abandoned where you fall by your companions and your horses? Well, wouldn't that be a fitting death for Lance Mazpotter?’’ half in self-derision, he had recently been contemplating that thought.

After Lance left Darren's pavilion, and without having spoken a word of those thoughts of his, he started that very day to gather up his companions, who were usually scattered all over the place, in order to faithfully carry out the request he had received.

Three days later, he had collected seven hundred men and had arrived at his destination.



Leo, on the opposing side from him, had brought all three hundred of his warrior monks to the temple ruins where, in the dead of night, they were attacked by Lance's troops. Speaking purely about the outcome, it was a perfectly obvious one: Leo suffered a crushing defeat.

Their guns fired through holes in the fences and walls, but, in the darkness, they hit nothing. The enemy, on the other hand, seemed to be laughing at their defencelessness, and easily broke through each important position, until they had even crossed over the dry moat which had been dug out with so much effort.

Just when it looked like they were converging to attack in one direction, they suddenly appeared from the side as well. There were several different moments when soldiers carrying ladders managed to scramble up and breach the walls, but Camus and the warrior monks were all battle-hardened, and they beat them back energetically. Perhaps Lance suspected that they would follow up by attacking his unit, since he quickly pulled back, waiting for the exact moment when Leo's side would be catching its breath to attack again.

They did not have enough soldiers to launch a counter-attack from their camp. Once their walls were breached, Leo and his men had no choice but to immediately pull back. They set the temple ruins on fire, and escaped to the east.

At around about the same time –

“Push forward without looking back.” – Darren and his force of two thousand once again started marching on Guinbar.
It looked as though the few measures that Leo had taken were completely in vain, yet he set up camp a few kilometres east of the temple ruins, and once more raised his flag. Lance started to chase after them, but this was, after all, Bernard's territory, and Lance would not unconcernedly penetrate further into it. He sent out scouts in various directions, and took the time to check whether there weren't any soldiers poised to strike at his riders.

Leo, for his part, did not remain idle during that time. In this second camp, he handed out spears to the young men he had recruited from the villages, and had them line up in formation. From atop his horse, he once more took up position at the centre of the encampment. Then, as a provocation to Lance's side, he rode down the hill by himself, and deliberately let them catch sight of him.

A part of Lance's unit was lured out, but Camus and other warrior monks, who were concealed in the forest by the side of the hill, were waiting for them with guns in hand.

There was a volley of gunfire and men and horses fell to their side, struck down by lead bullets.

“Bastards!” the cavalry unit was about to charge into the forest, but Camus and his group swiftly retreated. Following an escape route which had been prepared beforehand, the monks released a second, then a third salvo of shots even as they increased the distance between them and the cavalry unit, which was held back by having to make its way through the trees.

“Don't chase them too far!” Lance's orders were as quick as ever.

Darren looked down on Leo as a “brat who thinks he's a hero,” but Lance did not underestimate the opponent whose soldiers he had clashed against. Quite the opposite: ‘’There aren't many in Atall who can wage war like him’’, was how he saw it.

While still on horseback, he wet his finger.

“The wind's in the right direction. Set fire to the forest.”

His order was meant to deprive Camus' ambushing troops of anywhere to hide. But by that time, Camus and his men had already crossed the forest and left by the north, where they met up with Leo and the others.

To prevent horses from breaking through, a ring of abattis had been set up at the foot of the hill where Leo had established his camp, but a number of men from Lance's unit dismounted and went running to uproot the wooden spikes.
While half of the unit was occupied at that, the other half provided covering fire with bows and guns.

Of course, Leo's side aimed similar weapons back at them, but when about a third of the fence and already been pulled up, Leo came a decision:

“We're retreating.”

They fled further east at a speed which left Lance's unit dumbfounded. Here too, the conclusion was obvious –

Right from the start, Leo had never intended to face Lance Mazpotter directly.