Editing Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume4 Chapter2 (section)

===Part 3===


It was night and pouring with rain when a courier arrived, riding fast, at Bernard's castle. It was one of the warrior monks that Leo had left in Dharam. Dripping wet from head to toe, he cried out,

“Lord Actica is attacking Guinbar!”

Bernard immediately sent the news to Leo, who had already retired to his room. Leo leapt to his feet, closely followed by Camus.

“It must be some kind of mistake.” As Leo left his room, he was praying: ''Please let it be a mistake.''

To start with, Darren shouldn't be able to take action now. In any event, Leo decided to get the details from the warrior monk. And as he listened, he felt aghast.

At the outset, Darren had gone to meet the sovereign-prince's envoy not in the town by Olt Rose, but in a village near the castle. It so happened that on that day, there was a holiday which was celebrated in that area, in honour of the resurrection of the goddess of the harvest.

Since it was not related to the main faith of the Principality of Atall, Darren did not allow the festival to be celebrated in the main castle town but, beyond that, he did not try to take away the people's enjoyment of it. In fact, he had the habit of going with his retainers, all of them dressed up as farmers, huntsmen or fomer knights, and travelling around the villages to enjoy the festivities himself.

That day, he took the envoy and several retainers to one of the villages. And there, they were attacked. A group on warhorses suddenly appeared, setting the houses on fire with the torches they held in hand.

With helmets on their heads, they lunged out at the fleeing populace with their swords, spears and bows, amassing piles of corpses all around them.

Soldiers soon dealt with extinguishing the fires in the village but, by then, some two hundred lives had already been lost.

“What is this?” Darren bit his lip, his face just as ashen as the envoy's. “This is definitely Savan's doing. He's had his soul stolen by the Cross Faith, and can't bear the existence of any other god. If you add to that his despicable, single-minded hatred of House Actica, then of course he ended up resorting to this kind of violence.”

Darren brought the quivering envoy to his own carriage, and ordered the coachman to “protect him on the way to Olt Rose.”

“W-What about you, Lord Actica?” asked the envoy, and Darren flapped the overly-large cape he wore as a disguise.

“Savan is building a church, and acts as though he alone in all Atall is under divine protection. But know this well: the god he worships – that he alone reveres – is an evil god. Repulsive, cunning and strong. But as long as he lives on this earth, this isn't a problem about gods. This is an issue involving we living, breathing humans. Even if he worships an evil being, and even if receives dark powers from it, we will take our blades in our hands to resist against it, and use them to pierce through his own flesh. I'll make Savan realise that!” he declared.

― Or so the story went.

“What a joke,” Leo spat out after listening to the warrior monk's report. He bit back his voice as much as he could, but he could not entirely hide his emotions, and his cheeks were shaking from them. “Was that bastard so desperate to attack Guinbar that he had to torch the very people he was supposed to protect? And he dared do it in front of the very messenger sent by the sovereign-prince!”

It was probably as Leo had guessed. Darren had made use of the envoys presence, and had his own subordinates attack the area that he had taken him to visit. And in order to make that attack seem real, he had sacrificed the people of his fief.
“That bastard...” Camus' hand trembled with rage as he grasped the crucifix at his chest. “An 'evil god'? He's one to speak. Your Highness, that ''creature'' is an enemy to anyone of the faith... to the people of Atall... to all of humanity!”

The reports didn't stop there. Messengers came flying to Leo's side one after another. Every time a new piece of information became known, yet another messenger was sent from Dharam, up until the final report, which arrived in the early morning.

Leo had passed beyond anger, and had now gone as far as to feel fear. He heard that when Darren had first set out, right after the village had been attacked, he had only taken with him the few troops stationed at Olt Rose. If you added the soldiers who served as his guards, they did not amount to more than three hundred men. Yet the closer they got to Guinbar, the more their numbers swelled, until finally they grew into a force of more than two thousand.

Cavalrymen, infantrymen, bowmen, riflemen... the balance was flawless. It was obvious that Darren had prepared his troops beforehand, and had allotted them to areas throughout his domains. When Leo had first learned that Darren was on the move, he had given orders to have fast horses saddled and was going to set off immediately for Guinbar, but the situation had changed far faster than he had expected, and had escalated into something huge.

This was the day when the market would open by the church. Darren would probably attack it as a first step.

Savan would have no way to predict the event, and so his soldiers would be too late when they set out. Or perhaps, since it was obvious that any soldiers he sent out would be pushed back, he might make the conscious choice of abandoning the church. If he did, Leo would not be able to blame him; Savan Roux had a duty to protect the greater number of people in his fief.   

Yet Leo Attiel could not remain rational. He had the impression that everything had turned black, and that the darkness was striking him from all sides. He almost fell to his knees.

“Camus... the horses,” Leo gave the order almost unconsciously. His raspy voice sounded like it was being squeeze out from a crack in his throat. “What are you doing? Hurry with the horses. We're going to Guinbar at once!”

“You cannot, Prince.”

Although Camus was about to hurriedly agree, he was stopped by both Stark, who had come flying out of bed that night when he heard the news, and Bernard, who had been watching the whole thing unfold.

“What do you mean, I can't?” Leo demanded loudly while shaking off their hands. “Oh, righ; Bernard, how about your soldiers? Have you gathered plenty? Then, they could go together to Guinbar with... no, we don't need to go that far. First is Dharam. We'll do what he did and torch the villages there. Once he knows that his lands are being burned, he'll be forced to go back. Do it right now!”

“Prince, you cannot,” Stark's voice was every bit as loud as Leo's own.

Leo glared at Stark and Bernard as though he was looking at Darren himself.

“They what are you saying I should do!” He screamed, sounding as if he was about to stamp his foot at any moment. “Haven't things ended up exactly as I said they would? Isn't that right, Bernard? Why couldn't you react sooner to what I said would happen? It's not too late yet! But even so, you won't make a single move, either of you! If you're not going to do anything, at least don't get in the way. Yes, yes, I know; I wouldn't do anything like setting Dharam on fire. I would never become a man like Darren. We're going to Guinbar!”

“I am telling you that you cannot, Prince,” Stark would not back down either. “If what you said is true, Prince, then Darren has already plotted to have you killed before now. What if his soldiers find you along the way? And even if you  somehow manage to make it to Guinbar, what will you when you get there?”

“Camus, what are you doing? Horses. Also, armour and...”

“''Leo''!” Stark's furious voice crashed down on him.

Leo was startled into remaining paralysed. He looked as defenceless as a young child who had been unfairly scolded by his father.

“Did you say 'we'? Certainly, if Your Highness gives a direct order, then, just like Camus over there, there will be many who will gladly go, even though they know they are heading to their deaths. Because they have entrusted their lives to you. Which also means that, yes, of course, you can choose to toss their lives into a waste bin. And that is what you are doing right now.”

“...”

“You look like you want to say: 'But I'm going too.' That too is something you cannot do. If you say that you will go no matter what, then the retainers cannot stay behind. That is true for me, and also for Bernard. And Darren would kill us too. Your Highness, your position as Lord Leo Attiel now means that you will never again be left to act alone. You cannot be left to die alone. That is the fate you received from the gods on the day you were born and received the name 'Attiel', and it is one that you can never escape from.”

Stark's words pierced through Leo's flesh. As he reeled from them, his back hit the wall, and he slowly slid until he was sitting on the ground.

He understood that his actions – no, that his very existence as 'Leo Attiel' – carried the weight of responsibility. Back when he had fought Hayden, so many of the militiamen had given up their lives to form a wall a wall for him, and to allow him to escape alone. Even now, he could not forget that scene.

“Yeah... yes, you're right, Stark. That's right. Your words are true. But then... what can I do? What should I do?”

“Although Your Highness was always warning us, we did not heed your words, and allowed this situation to develop. It is a disgrace for us too,” Stark suddenly crouched down. “Please grant us the opportunity to redeem ourselves, and allow us to take care of this. We will send messengers to Tiwana. I myself will also leave for the capital at once. I will explain the situation to the sovereign-prince, and tell him that we must stop Darren, even if it means assembling an army.”

''Too late...'' Leo spoke to himself in a small voice, his back still against the wall.

Stark called someone at once and started to write the letter that he and Bernard would be jointly signing, yet while that was going on, Leo could only stare up at the ceiling that was still dark and dimly-lit.

''Not in time...'' By the time the sovereign-prince took action, all of Guinbar would already have fallen in flames.

The church... the marketplace. It would be bustling with people doing business. In the tents and at the tables, vendors and buyors would be laughing boisterously, and bargaining hard behind the smiles. Leo had heard from the merchants' guards that when the haggling got too fierce, vendors would break out alcohol to try and ease negotiations. There would also be food carts lined up along the market. He could picture the sight of children, pestering their parents for freshly baked pies and sweets.

Leo took the doll out from his trouser pocket, where he had left it. The simple buttons that had been used for the eyes and nose were already coming off. Would that mother and daughter also be at the market? The little girl had been tongue-tied in front of Leo, but to get her mother to buy her sweets, would she do her very best to bring out all the words and persuasion she could manage, bargaining hard in her own way? – “I'll help you a whole lot. I'll go and draw water from the river even in winter. I'll do the laundry and the cleaning. So please...” – She would definitely be cajoling her mother like that.

They would be attacked. They would be surrounded by flames. Scores of people would die at the market which had been set up on Leo's orders. The church would also be destroyed. “Burn down the evil god's dwelling!” – an image of Darren on horseback flashed through his mind.

Pain struck Leo like a blow. The blood vessels in his temples pounded, and his head throbbed. He felt sick to the stomach.

Where was Darren now? Had he already arrived at Guinbar's market? Or not yet? Or was he already standing next to a pile of corpses, made up of men and women, young and old?

“Damn it,” Leo cried.

Camus, who had been left with nothing to do, turned around, startled and with his face flushing red.

“Shit!”

Leo punched his fist into the wall. And repeated that action again and again.

Darren Actica had pretended to be attacked. That was how he would defend himself to the sovereign-prince. Leo remembered how he himself had pleaded his cause in the same way, resisting Darren with everything he had.

Then what would Sovereign-Prince Magrid say?

It was already decided, anyway.

“I will investigate, so neither of you are to take any kind of action.”

And after that, he wouldn't do anything. The vassal-lords would fall in line with Darren and Magrid.

No doubt about it.

And then, all of them together, would blame everything on Leo. He's dangerous, he'll bring the fires of war to the country... no, one day, he'll destroy the country himself – they would all agree...

“Damn it!” Leo felt like he was going mad.

Bernard's wife, who had gotten up and heard of the situation, was worried about the prince and tried to get him to have breakfast, but Leo wouldn't go with her.

“Leave me alone!” Having even raised his voice against Bernard's wife and child, Leo buried his head in his knees, and sank entirely into his own thoughts.

He couldn't just stay here doing nothing. He couldn't bear it. At the very least...

''Right, should I write to Savan and urge him to surrender? Fighting Darren now is hopeless. No – Darren wants to prove above all else that he is more powerful than the House of the sovereign-princes. Then, how about if I go to Darren's camp myself and surrender?''

Earlier, Stark had said that Leo might be killed if he was found by Darren's soldiers, but that was only because he was an obstacle to the head of House Actica. If he made it clear that he was personally going right up to Darren's encampment, then he would instead transform into a proof of Darren's power – basically, his existence would have some worth in Darren's eyes.

Leo hated himself for being able to think, almost calmly, about what would happen after the church's surroundings were torched. But even though he was disgusted with himself, he also believed that this was better than not doing anything.
Time passed, and noon was already approaching. Yet the sky was still carrying traces of yesterday's rain and was covered in dark clouds, which cast their gloom over the entire area.

Leo sluggishly started to get to his feet. Defeat had cast a dark shadow over his face, and his still childish features seemed to have aged all at once. Camus watched him with concern, and was about to call out to him but, right then, the door leading into the room burst open, and a wind swept in. In the next second, a soldier almost came racing in, almost tumbling in his haste.

''Again?'' Leo thought hazily. ''Is this'' more ''bad news?''

Every possible disaster had already happened. Nothing could surprise him now. Nothing could make him despair any further.

Yet even though he had made up his mind to that, when the soldier rushed to kneel before him, the news he brought was utterly unexpected.



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