Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume10 Chapter3 (section)

=== Part 3 ===

Zenon Owell, the second prince of Garbera, was at the bridge of an air carrier that was flying from the capital, Phozon, to Zaim Fortress which protected the northern border. They were going on military duties.

Or at least, that was what Zenon himself was expecting.

Terrified of internal strife, his father, King Ainn, and his older brother, Razetta, had adopted indecisive attitudes; but Zenon was convinced that whatever Salamand was planning would bring about a disaster that Garbera would not be able to recover from.

Salamand Fogel. The vice-captain of the Order of the Badger had won no little amount of fame, but, as a fervent admirer of Ryucown’s, he was also a man who wished to resume the war with Mephius.

According to him, it was ‘to protect the pride of chivalry’. 

Once upon a time, Prince Zenon had thought the same thing. But not anymore. Which was not to say that he had lost his ‘pride in chivalry’. Each person had different beliefs and loyalties.

Salamand had advocated to the King that they should take back Princess Vileena, whom Mephius had branded a dishonourable traitor. It was to the point that her whereabouts in Mephius were unknown. If the people of Garbera were to learn of that, their feelings towards Mephius would inevitably and instantly deteriorate. Sometimes, the feelings of the people gave rise to situations that exceeded both their leaders’ predictions and their ability to contain them, and there was a risk that this might turn into just such a situation.

King Ainn Owell had allowed himself to be persuaded by the other retainers and had agreed to send a letter to Mephius. Salamand was given the task of taking it to Solon and, in the name of “showing them that we are serious,” he had gotten the King to consent to him leading several units of knights to Zaim as well. The movement of troops was a military manoeuvre in itself that would incite Mephius to remember their alliance, he reasoned.

However, according to information from Miss Rinoa Kotjun and from Zenon’s friend Noue, those in sympathy with Salamand had already carried a large number of weapons to Zaim and there was a high chance that they had even captured the fortress itself.

''Salamand, you bastard.''

Could it be that he intended to trespass into Mephius without waiting for the king’s authorisation? Thinking that, Zenon had immediately, and while in full armour, sought an audience with the king. He had requested permission to subjugate Salamand but his sovereign and his older brother, still unable to perceive Salamand’s real intentions, had been cautious.

Zenon had therefore carefully chosen his words. “I will start by heading towards Zaim with only a few men.” Following that, he had been granted to proceed to Zaim for the time being. From there, he had immediately hopped onto an air carrier that Rinoa had gotten ready. Along with twenty knights, he had ridden north, above the grass-covered plains of Garbera. Even though he had said that he would “start” that way, the truth was that at that point his men from the Order of the Tiger had already set off from their various locations. The one who had arranged for their ships was once again Rinoa.

While on the way, one of the ships had stopped at a supply base. Noue Salzantes had been waiting there.

On board the ship, in a cabin reserved for Zenon’s exclusive use, the two of them met up.

“There’s some unfortunate news,” after hurriedly giving his greetings, Noue cut straight to the point.

“What is it? Has Salamand reached Zaim?”

“Well there is that too.”

“If my father would just have made his decision a little faster – well, there’s no help for it now. And? What is this other bad news?”

He signalled with his eyes to the page who was laying out tea to leave the room. Once there was no one else there, Noue twiddled with the black hair that fell over his shoulders and said something strange.

“In Mephius, a man claiming to be Crown Prince Gil has appeared. And our Garbera’s Princess Vileena is by his side.”

“Huh?”

Zenon looked bewildered for a second.

“Huh!”

But then immediately changed the inflection of his words. His expression however showed mixed feelings.

“Wait, how is this bad? My little sister is alive, how could that be anything but good? No, but, a man claiming to be the prince? Wasn’t he supposed to have died after being betrayed by a retainer? Which means, he’s an impostor? Then, then is my sister by his side also an impostor? I don’t understand! Talk in a way that I can understand!”

He spoke in one go, not pausing once for breath. Noue nodded and gave a summary of the information he had obtained concerning Mephius. Zenon listened in silence then said,

“Interesting. It feels like something which couldn’t possibly be happening within one of our neighbouring countries but rather somewhere completely different. Noue, what do you think? the prince, and also Vileena, are they the real ones?”

“I have not yet been able to obtain any certain evidence. However, I believe that there is a strong possibility that they are. Rogue and Odyne, who rose in rebellion in Apta, are both known as upright commanders. So it would be perfectly plausible for them to stand up against the emperor’s tyranny; but they are not the sort of people who would then deliberately set up an impostor as the crown prince to validate their cause. Moreover, it makes no sense to bring out an impostor of the princess. On the contrary, claiming that while in Apta, she had gotten caught up in the war with the west and died would have been a far better way of highlighting the emperor’s viciousness. It would also have been easier for them to rebuild the relationship with our Garbera if they claimed that they were fighting in revenge for the princess.”

“I see.”

Even while he nodded, Zenon maintained a complicated expression. As her older brother, he was, of course, nothing but delighted that Vileena was alive. Moreover, he was acquainted with Mephius’ Crown Prince Gil. They had only met once, but he was a memorable man.

''I’d heard he was a fool but he seems like a cunning devil'' – he had thought.

And then, very soon after that, when Zenon had been at the royal court, he had heard that Gil Mephius and been shot and killed by a Mephian retainer.

And that same Gil was alive.

If that turned out to be true, then Gil had probably faked his own death. That it was not a nation-wide conspiracy was clear from the fact that he was now colliding with the emperor head-on. It must be a plan that had been hatched either by Gil alone or with some people who were close to him. Was his little sister, Vileena, one of those people?

At any rate, with this, Mephius was at risk of being divided. No, from what he had heard, the hostilities had already opened and a civil war had started.

“And,” Zenon looked at Noue searchingly, “not to repeat myself, but how is this bad?”

“Salamand might also hear about it. On top of which, I would expect it to try and unsettle the court even further.”

A great many commanders would certainly be eager to seize the golden opportunity presented by a civil war in Mephius. Moreover, a Garberan princess was at the side of the crown prince who was fighting against the current regime.

Which meant that there was plenty of room to intervene in that civil war.

“And that also means seizing Mephius’ land and assets like looters at a fire.”

“We can assume so,” even though nobody was present, Noue spoke in a whisper, “and not only that, those who would get in the way of devouring Mephius once the disturbance is settled could be quietly made to disappear – that possibility also exists.”

“You mean Crown Prince Gil?”

“I mean Princess Vileena.”

At Noue’s words, Zenon pursed his lips and bit back his voice which had almost cried out in surprise.

“Whether the emperor or the crown prince wins, Mephius will unavoidably be weakened. Those who wanted to fight Mephius to the end during the war will only be able to gain political influence if Princess Vileena, the embodiment of the peace between us, disappears. Pardon my discourtesy, but I do not think that the king would have any arguments convincing enough to stop them, and I expect that he would let them persuade him into going for full-scale military manoeuvres.”

“…”

If that were to happen, Garbera would certainly profit from it. However, those who wanted to fight Mephius were at odds with Zenon’s current way of thinking. One could even call them political opponents. After pondering for a while, he said –

“Those who would destroy other countries, even at the cost of silencing their own royal family, cannot build a future that embodies Garbera’s chivalrous ideals.”

“Truly,” Noue nodded his slender chin.

His attitude was for all the world like that of a young man worried about his country’s future, but if anyone who knew about his recent past were present, they might well look at him and think – ''you sly bastard''. Since, after all, Noue had most certainly schemed to have Princess Vileena killed.

“Setting the question of Vileena aside,” Zenon raised his fist to his chest, “there’s no doubt that Salamand is a man who looks down on the royal family and who will stop at nothing. We need to stop him at all cost before he manages to beguile my father with his smooth-tongued wiles.”

And if they pulled through this fight then –

''Gil Mephius. I look forward to checking with my own eyes whether you are real or fake.''



From there on, Zenon’s flight did not encounter any obstacles along the way and arrived at the point where Zaim Fortress was right before them.

They purposely let themselves be seen and landed within sight of the sentries. Even though they were flying the banner that proved that a member of the royal family was on board, no one from the fortress came to greet them. In place of that, soldiers were waiting for them, spears in hand.

Zenon Owell alighted from the ship and, accompanied by several attendants, he walked up to the gates.

“We were waiting for you, Prince Zenon.”

From the other side of the soldiers’ spears, Zenon looked at them as though contemplating something curious.

“It seems you know who you’re pointing those spears at.”

There was no reply.

Every one of the soldiers had pale faces, but the eyes within those faces seemed to blaze with fire.

''So Zaim has fallen into the hands of rebels again?'' The thought flitted through the prince’s mind.

This was the land of Ryucown’s uprising and of Ryucown’s downfall.

“Is Salamand not coming out?”

“If he came out, he would kill Your Highness.”

“Oh really, are you worried about my safety? Well then, see you next time.”

Zenon did not enjoy drawn-out chatter. His cloak flapping, he once more boarded the ship.

The soldiers watched as the ship disappeared from sight in the sky and, although their expressions were becoming increasingly tight at having defied the royal family, they were relieved at having, for now, achieved their aim.

''With this, we’ll have bought some time.''

But –

“Enemy attack, enemy attack!”

It was less than an hour later that the airships sent out in reconnaissance literally came flying back, shouting that as they did so.

The soldiers standing guard at the gates soon saw it for themselves. A group on horseback was riding up amidst a cloud of dust. The flag of Zenon Owell’s Knights of the Order of the Tiger fluttered gallantly in the evening shadows.

When he was turned away at the gates, Zenon had accomplished his promise to the King to “start by calling with only a few soldiers.” Neither the King nor Salamand could have predicted that his second move would come so soon, but that was not currently Zenon’s problem.

He had more than a thousand soldiers ride in five of the ships that Rinoa had prepared. The remaining ship had been equipped with weapons and was at the rear, serving as the flagship.

Naturally, the fortress was thrown into confusion both inside and out.

“It’s the Order of the Tiger!”

“Impossible. It’s too soon. Was His Highness planning on attacking us from the start?”

“We can worry about that later. Enemy attack, enemy attack!”

For the second time since Ryucown’s uprising, the signs of war were looming over Zaim fortress.

“Prince Zenon is attacking?”

Salamand Fogel received the report just as the preparations for weapons and provisions had been finished and he was about to set off on horseback.

But they were still at the fortress’ west gate. He had not been expecting Zenon to attack so quickly.

Salamand was to lead eight hundred of his men west of the fortress during the night. After which, the troops remaining in Zaim would use a single air carrier to fly towards the Mephian border garrison. And bombard them. Once the garrison had fallen into chaos, the plan had been for them to cross over the Bruno Hills. In other words, he had not, from the start, had the slightest intention of officially conveying the King’s letter to the emperor.

But Zenon had been far faster than anticipated.

Within the royal family, which had grown craven since the war with Mephius, Zenon was the only one the Salamand recognised as a true leader and commander.

“What should we do, Lord Salamand?”

His subordinates from the Order of the Badger asked, their faces filled with tension.

“If it turns into a battle here, Mephius will notice what is happening in Zaim and the border garrison will be on alert. Shall we put the plan forward and have our ship attack them at once?”

“No, then the fortress will be insufficiently manned. If Prince Zenon takes Zaim too quickly, we’ll be at risk from the rear.”

In front of his men who were raising their voices fretfully, Salamand let go of the horse whose back he had just been about to jump onto and instead sat down on the spot with a thump. As a commander, he had learned from Ryucown that in times like these, he needed to demonstrate an attitude as firm as a rock. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them wide and sharp.

“First, strengthen the fortress’ defence,” he shouted. “Zaim isn’t a fortress that will fold under one or two attacks, even if the enemy strength is twice or three times ours.”

If they learned that there was internal disturbance within Garbera, the border garrison was more likely to spring into action instead. Until reinforcements arrived, that might, in fact, make it easier for them to find a chance than it would have under normal circumstances.

Dressed in the heavy, multi-layered armour that was traditional to Garbera, Salamand vigorously stood up.

“Battle stations!”



As a signal that he was declaring war, Zenon Owell had his warship perform a long-distance bombardment.

Nonetheless, Zaim was a fortress that protected Garbera from Ende in the north and Mephius in the west. They could not afford to destroy it. So he left things at the level of a threat.

The ground heaved with each roar of the guns and sprays of earth went flying.

Once it had started, Zenon gave the Knights of the Order of the Tiger the command  to charge.

As previously stated, however, Zaim was Garbera’s sturdiest fortress. Because practically the only roads leading to it stretched out towards the south, the level ground there was studded with towers and gun batteries from where shooting and shelling spewed forth. Because of that, the infantry and cavalry troops could not get close to it and, since the line of fire also covered the skies, the airship units could not approach either.

“Zaim lives up to its reputation. Was it a little too reckless to attempt a ground war with only a thousand soldiers?” Noue Salzantes murmured from the sky. Riding at the rear of an airship, he was gazing at the battlefield through a pair of binoculars.

Without even sallying from the gates, the enemy was completely sweeping back the knights’ assault.

“Send up a beacon.” Once he had grasped the situation, Noue alighted back onto land and gave his instructions to a messenger. “Retreat. We’re retreating.”

The battle had not lasted even two hours.

The Knights of the Order of the Tiger started to pull back. From the fortress, they could hear the bellows of the soldiers, who were in high spirits.

While all the knights drew back to where the flagship was, Noue continued to gaze at the fortress.

“Is there no way to get them to pursue us?” He muttered.

He too returned to the ship and reported to Prince Zenon, who was on the bridge.

“Damn you, Salamand. Is he planning on a siege war?” Zenon practically spat out the name of the man who was now a traitor.

“We can assume that too,” Noue put a slender finger to his chin. “If he has chosen to oppose the royal family, then instead of drawing Your Highness to the fortress, he should be looking for a way to capture you or to take advantage of any opening. Having already turned his sword against the royal family, he should no longer have the leisure of being able to choose his methods. And yet, on top of deliberately placing himself on the receiving end of an attack, he didn’t even give chase when we withdrew.”

“Meaning?”

“Zaim is a sacrificial pawn. No doubt meant to buy time for Salamand to cross over the border.”

When he heard ‘cross over the border’, Zenon’s expression changed. According to Noue’s earlier predictions, and also to Rinoa Kotjun’s apprehensions, Salamand intended to drive a wedge between Garbera and Mephius, even at the cost of his own life, so as to rouse Garbera to war.

“Then we no longer have the leisure of choosing our means either,” Zenon said with a determined look. “The enemy shouldn’t have many ships. Shall we use our own to bombard the gates into oblivion and then charge immediately after?”

“No…” Noue’s long hair swayed as he shook his head. “We will wait, Your Highness.”

“Wait?”

“Yes. Since you arrived faster than expected, Prince Zenon, Salamand’s situation has changed. Let’s keep an eye on them and take our time waiting until the enemy gets impatient and launches their own attack.”

Noue’s expression was perfectly cool. He said to ‘wait’ even though he himself had pointed out that the enemy was stalling for time. Zenon was dumbfounded, but as Noue explained his plan, he was gradually won over to it.



As a matter of fact, Salamand Fogel was getting impatient at that very moment. The defence had been solidified in the expectation of a second and third round of assault; but after the first attack, Zenon had not made any other move. Mephius’ border garrison also seemed to have adopted a wait-and-see attitude, and there had been no signs of any particular activity. Of course, in terms of internal strife, Mephius had been there first. If they were to request reinforcements, there was a good chance that the response would be slow; so they were not going to make any reckless moves.

''Even though that’s why this was such a good chance'' – Salamand ground his teeth, looking for all the world like the bear which had given its name to his Order.

The original plan had been to bring out their ship to attract the garrison’s attention.

But if they took the ship out now, the fort would be under-manned. It would make no sense to cross the border only to have Zenon pounce on them from behind.

“Damn you, Zenon.”

After two days had passed, Salamand realised that they were wasting too much time. The more time went by, the more they were the ones at a disadvantage. Unlike Ryucown, who had been promised supplies from Ende in the north, Salamand was alone and unaided. Once the provisions and water had been used up, it would no longer be question of the path of chivalry.

''In that case…''

Salamand had no ordinary amount of determination. Late that night, he removed all the wine casks from the ship and treated the soldiers to the contents.

“Drink, drink,” he encouraged them. “The braves who want to be the first to rush to General Ryucown’s side, raise your swords and I will grant you a speedy death!”

Salamand chose three hundred of his men to cross the border with him and assembled them into a suicide corps.

On the third day, after Zenon had established his troops’ position, and in the same way that they had when he had visited Zaim, the fortress’ gates were thrown open. Most of the troops within poured out like an avalanche. Salamand’s forces intended to stun the enemy with this onslaught.

However, at that very moment, the prince’s formation split left and right. From their centre, looking as though it were gliding along the slope of a small hill, Zenon’s flagship came into sight. It was obvious from the ship’s timing that they had been expecting the attack, and beneath their helmets, Salamand’s men wore shocked expressions.

The ship flew over the clash between the Order of the Tiger’s cavalry and Salamand’s infantry soldiers, and headed for the skies over Zaim Fortress. The fortress’ cannons and guns, which had been providing covering fire to the ground charge, did not have time to adjust their aim.

The flagship’s lower gun turrets rotated and fired rounds in quick succession. Beneath the booming guns, the ground shook as though in an earthquake. Even the air seemed to be trembling. Once the bombardment was over, and the ship had flown away from the fortress for fear of its anti-aircraft fire, Zaim’s southern gate and bulwark lay smashed into tiny pieces.

Having made sure of that, the ship quickly released a unit of small airships. Contrary to expectations, the ships did not swoop around the fortress to encircle it, but instead guarded the carrier as it descended towards the ground. Having landed, this time it discharged a huge number of cavalry soldiers.

The new arrival of knights caught Salamand’s troops in a pincer movement. Meanwhile, the airship unit finally began bombing the fortress, aiming to suppress its gunfire.

Destroying the fortress that protected their own borders was an unimaginably reckless and violent method, but according to Zenon, it was – ''fine as long as the north-facing walls remain sturdy''. He had decided that, even if the southern side was  wrecked, it would be an acceptable loss.

Seeing Salamand’s army abruptly collapse, Prince Zenon spurred his own warhorse on.

“Charge!”

Leading three hundred of his elite troops, he closed in on the fortress from its front.



“Dammit,” Salamand cursed, realising that his troops had so easily been lured out. But even so, “it’s fine, we ride. Even if we only kick up this much dust, the Mephian garrison won’t be able to ignore it. Be prepared for sacrifices and cut through!”

Such a prompt decision was perhaps something to be expected from an officer that even Zenon recognised. And this drastic step brought about some good luck for Salamand who had been continuously plagued with misfortune.

Had the decision been delayed, the Mephian border garrison would have been set up in position along the way leading from Zaim, and would have been able to repelled Salamand’s troop of five hundred. But the Mephian response was slower than Zenon and Noue had anticipated. Seeing dust rising from Zaim, they were, for a short moment, thrown into confusion. And Salamand’s unit was able to make use of that gap to charge at them from the flank.

Salamand did not need to annihilate the garrison. And in any case, Zenon’s troops were right behind them. It was doubtful whether they would continue chasing them over the border, and as long as they could outdistance their enemies, there was a good chance that both Zenon’s troops and Mephius’ side would be left in chaos. 

“Hurry, all of you!” at the head of the unit, Salamand shouted fit to tear his own throat, kicking his horse’s flanks. He dodged the spears that flashed towards him from the ground and with an easy strike of his sword sent the head of a Mephian soldier flying.

''For General Ryucown. And for Garbera’s future.''

As blood sprayed, Salamand plunged forward without looking back and inwardly recited that like an incantation. He would get as close as he could to the imperial capital, and if possible, clash with the main body of Mephius’ army, and die. That was Salamand’s only wish.

Once word spread of how they had desperately tried to rescue Princess Vileena, their cause would be vindicated and public opinion within Garbera would instantly swing in favour of war against Mephius.

Meanwhile, Zenon Owell was exterminating Salamand’s ground troops. He was however experiencing greater difficulty than expected because of how desperately the enemy fought. It felt as though in each soldier, he could see Ryucown’s ghost.

''You’re willing to go that far.''

His armour drenched in blood, Zenon entered Zaim. As they had feared, Salamand had led a unit across the border. Sending a messenger to Mephius’ border garrison, it turned out that they had taken damage from Salamand’s charge. It did not seem that they would be at all inclined to trust his suggestion that half of them be sent in pursuit while the other half remained there on alert.

He had no choice but to circumvent the border and send messengers directly to the capital. Zenon chose several courageous men and had them head towards Mephius’ capital, Solon, each taking different routes.

It was only after he had finished giving orders that Zenon realised that he was still grasping his blood-covered sword and returned it to his waist. If Salamand managed to successfully carry out his plan, his own country might be split right in half.

''If it’s Father…''

He was afraid that, rather than letting the country be torn apart, his father might take advantage of the civil war in Mephius to send soldiers. Although he could see how that would be the correct decision for a statesman to make, giving in to agitators out of fear of a temporary disturbance would be fatal to the royal family’s prestige.

''Ryucown.''

Zaim Fortress was still filled with dust and the smoke of gunpowder. And amidst that dense fog, it seemed to Zenon that he had seen that young warrior’s imposing figure, all clad in armour.



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