Editing Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume3 Chapter3 (section)

===Part 4===


“So it’s Lance Mazpotter.”

That was a name that even Darren had heard before.

A messenger from Lance had circumvented Leo’s camp to enter Olt Rose Castle. The excitement was at fever pitch inside the castle when they learned that Lance had twice hindered Leo’s troops by attacking them.

Here were unexpected reinforcements.

According to the messenger, their unit had, on Oswell's orders, gone to lend a hand in capturing Guinbar, but when Lance heard that the situation had reversed, and that Leo was attacking Darren instead, he had immediately altered his plans, and had decided to cut through Leo's troops from behind.

''That's Oswell for you. Definitely a guy worth using.''

While maintaining an outwardly calm expression, Darren was inwardly considerably relieved.

He had been dreading that Leo might mount a surprise attack from some unknown direction, and that any carelessness on his part would lead to castle town being invaded. Thanks to this, however, he could stall for time far more easily than he had expected.

''But still...''

Frankly speaking, Darren did not like this messenger who had come from Lance. His bare arms were crossed in front of his worn-out chest armour, and even though he was before an Atallese noble, he did not show the slightest sign of courtesy. Although his moustache was neatly trimmed, he wore his hair long and had it tied back in a bunch behind his head. As he also wore an eye patch over his left eye, he truly looked like a mountain bandit.

''I guess this just goes to show what kind of origins his 'leader' Lance comes from...''

Even so, these were unmistakably valuable reinforcements, and Darren did his best to act amiably.

“Please convey my thanks to Sir Oswell. To Sir Lance as well.”

“I'll tell 'em.”

The messenger had helped himself uninvited to a piece of fruit from the tray placed on the table, and he made his answer while bringing it to his mouth. Although Darren had a hard time swallowing his anger, this turn of events had bolstered the spirit of Olt Rose's soldiers far beyond anything that he had hoped for.

These were originally men who had been enthusiastic about setting another territory to the torch, and they almost seemed to be slobbering like stray dogs waiting for food.

“We should seize this chance to launch our offensive,” they kept insisting one-by-one.

The leader of the movement was once again Darren's son, Dingo, yet Darren shook his head at the suggestion.

“Don't make light of Leo.”

“I am not suggesting we kill him here and now,” Dingo's face was red, “but instead of waiting for the sovereign-prince to mediate, if we strike a hard blow against the prince and drive him away with our own strength, then afterwards, we'll be able to take a stronger attitude towards the princely house. And those within our domains who view Leo as a hero will wake up to reality.”

His father fell silent despite himself. Certainly, relying on the sovereign-prince to help him would affect Darren's reputation: even if he was able to socially destroy the prince, he might lose the ability to coerce the ruling house itself.

“Father, we won’t chase them too far. Please give your permission,” Dingo asked insistently.

Darren hesitated, but he was a man whose power and influence had long been a match for the ruling family’s; he was not used to reigning himself in at the last moment like this. And then, there was also that information about how Leo had moved camp – it was obvious that he had done so as a precaution and out of fear of Lance’s attacks.

''If we attack them now…'' the thought took root in Darren’s mind.

He granted his son permission.

With unconcealed delight, Dingo went to wait on standby by the gate with seven hundred men. There was a risk that Leo might get impatient and lead an onslaught against the castle town first, but Dingo was determined to fling open the gates and ride out to fight if that happened.

As soon as he saw an opportunity, the quick-witted Lance would definitely attack from behind with his cavalry troops. Those new models of guns and cannons that Leo’s men were equipped with would become useless once the fight turned into confused close-quarter combat.

Early in the morning, two days after the second surprise attack, riders launched an assault on Leo’s camp for the third time.

They struck from the southern direction. Since Leo’s side had taken position on low ground, it was ideal for a cavalry attack, and the riders swooped down the slope.

Leo, however, was naturally not just sitting there helplessly: riflemen had been placed between the trees growing south of the camp, and they were ready for the riders. Cannons also belched out fire, and the projectiles crashed into trees even further south. Several cavalrymen fell.

A group of soldiers stood waiting to intercept the remaining riders, their spears at the ready.

At about that same time –

“Open the gates!” Dingo Actica roared, and his troops launched themselves out from the gates of the castle town.

The charge was timed to match with Lance’s cavalry attack. The first to leave was the central column, which consisted mostly of mercenaries. They headed straight towards Leo’s camp, which of course now found itself forced to deal with them.

Although they looked like they had dashed out without preparation, a second unit followed right behind Dingo’s central column. This was the left wing, centred around its cavalrymen, which made use of its speed to quickly flank Leo’s interception unit, which was now surrounded.

Meanwhile, the right wing, which Dingo led in person, started to move along the river. Leo’s attention was occupied by Lance’s attack, and he failed to grasp how the army which had left the castle town was manoeuvring as a whole. Leo’s troops were lured in by the central column and the left wing, leaving their encampment insufficiently defended.

As a result, Dingo’s group was easily able to break through the camp’s outer guards. With the cannons immobilised in the south, there was no risk of cannonballs falling towards them.

At around that same time, Lance’s riders, who had led the initial charge, brought their first attack to an end and altered their course. Although they had taken damage from the riflemen and cannons, their cooperation was unimpaired as they briskly commenced their retreat.

Leo’s cavalrymen gave chase.

“Don’t let them escape!”

“Kill them!”

Their angry bellows echoed from every direction. And there were many of them.

Or rather – there were too many of them.

They could finally give vent to their fury over Lance’s repeated attacks, and that spurred them on so strongly that they forgot to look back towards the encampment behind them. Which meant that they had been lured away by Lance’s troops.

This made things even easier for Dingo’s unit, which was edging up towards the enemy camp. They continued onwards, while the soldiers set fire to the simple watchtowers, and either demolished the perfunctory abatis placed around the camp, or avoided them altogether.

When Dingo’s group came crashing into the camp, the soldiers who had stayed by Leo’s side ran away, screaming.

“What ‘Personal Guards’? What ‘hero’?” Dingo roared with laughter from horseback. “You might have defeated Allion’s forces, but your luck ran out when you made an enemy of House Actica! Lord Leo, come on out! I’m a generous warrior: I’ll fight you in single combat.”

One after another, he cut down the flags with the emblems of the ruling House and of the Cross Faith, whose presence indicated that these were the troop headquarters.

Dingo’s group pushed its way in even further before suddenly realising something: they had expected there to be very few soldiers at the headquarters since they had lured the enemy away from the camp – but there were too few soldiers around. In fact, the place was practically empty.

By the time Dingo’s expression had changed because of the realisation, it was already too late.



There was the roar of cannon fire, and earth went flying, mixed in with the blood and flesh of men and horses, spraying their entire surroundings. The shots continued to rain down on them, uninterrupted.

Dingo was shaken from the saddle, and fell to the ground. As a result, his collapsed horse served as a shield against the storm of bullets, but it would be hard to say that luck was on his side. Simply said, it was Leo who had successfully lured the enemy.

After the first surprise attack, Kuon – who excelled at night-time espionage – had been ordered to lurk in the area around Olt Rose’s castle town. Percy and Camus’ prediction was that if this attack corps was Lance’s group which had been sent by Oswell, then, without a doubt, there would come a time when they would act together with those from inside the castle.

And Kuon had commendably managed to detect a person surreptitiously slipping into the castle area under cover of night. His night-vision was impressive, and there was no doubt that the one he had seen was a messenger from Lance’s troops.

''They’ll work together to attack us from both sides'' – was Leo’s guess. Basing himself on that reading of the situation, he had drawn up a strategy to entice the enemy into his headquarters.

He had his troops pretend to take the enemy’s bait and all but desert the camp, then waited to launch an assault on their assailants’ core force. The cannons had been aimed towards where the ruling House’s flags were planted, and they were set off as the enemy approached them.

But then, where was Leo Attiel at that moment?

He was leading the group which was chasing after Lance’s cavalry unit. Although… the ‘chasing’ was no more than a pretence, aimed at emptying the camp.

He was wholly focused on galloping forward until he heard the roar of artillery that blew apart Dingo’s group. At that signal, Leo called out to his men and turned his horse around. Along with his two hundred riders, he started to charge.

Ahead of them was the first interception unit. Since they were in a defenceless forward position, they were surrounded by the enemy’s central column and left wing, but that unit’s role was precisely to keep those two forces immobilised.

They had essentially been given the most dangerous duty. If they had been annihilated in a short time, the entire strategy would have collapsed at that point. Which was why the elite fighters that were Percy, Camus and Kuon had been included within that unit.

Each of them fought hard.
[[Image: Leo_Attiel_Den_v03_168.png|thumb]]
Percy and Camus excelled with the spear.

When they had headed out to intercept the enemy, Kuon’s unit had deliberately fallen behind, allowing them to flank the opposing troops which had eagerly started their encirclement, come up behind them, and scatter the enemy’s attention with their manoeuvre. For all that they were highly skilled, Percy and Camus were still unused to group combat, so this was not a trick that they could have attempted.

It paid off, and they were able to hold out astoundingly well.

Just when Darren’s soldiers were losing their cool, Leo’s cavalry unit attacked the left wing from behind. Darren’s side did not have the mental preparedness for that, and so neither did they have much persistence. Carried by the momentum of Leo’s unit coming to the rescue, the interception troop once again went on the offensive – the mercenary-based central column was the first to start pulling back, and when their centre collapsed, the left wing gradually lost its will to fight.

When messengers came hurrying with further news of how the right wing had been routed, and how Dingo had to be carried back to the castle, carried on his companions’ shoulders, there was clearly no longer any way of winning, and Darren’s men all started running back to the castle town.

Darren’s face had turned ashen when he saw his blood-covered second son being carried in to the castle area, and although many of his men were still outside, he ordered that the gates be shut, not only to the castle, but also to the town. Finding themselves locked out, most of the mercenaries considered fleeing, then fell to their knees on the spot, and begged for mercy.

''Good.''

Leo Attiel slowed his horse’s pace, and breathed a sigh of relief beneath his helmet. For now, things were going according to plan.

He sent messengers again to every one of the units, and, by noon, they had set up formation right outside the main gates. The cannons had also been hauled over, and were aimed at the town’s walls.

They had intended to ride the momentum and break in, but, as though to chip away at their spirits, Lance’s cavalry corps launched an attack on them. Platoons of two or three hundred men rushed towards them again and again.

At noon, they came from the south then, just half an hour later, it was from the east. Another hour and a half later, it was from the west, even though the river should have been in their way. It was clear that they had made the considerable detour to avoid it, but it still gave the impression they had appeared as though by magic, since the cooperation between the platoons was so perfect that they almost seemed able to time each other’s breathing.

Taken individually, none of these were large-scale attacks, but since Leo’s side was not numerous enough to surround the castle, they were forced to rush to repel them each time.

When Darren’s soldiers, who had taken refuge back in the town, saw that Leo had run into an unexpected problem, they rallied once more, and started shooting from above the ramparts while infantrymen left from another gate to create a diversion.

From the outset, Leo’s side had never had the numbers to topple the castle. Leo had nevertheless made the attempt by relying on their superior speed and equipment, as well as on their fully-loaded cannons, which would serve as siege weapons. However, Lance’s intervention had outdone theirs in terms of ‘speed’, crushing Leo’s optimistic hopes.

The battle which had begun in the early morning had continued throughout the afternoon, and showed no signs of ending even when evening was drawing close. The people of the castle town were certainly terrified of the fighting, and they had locked themselves up in storehouses and cellars, trembling as they huddled close together. There were even some who had put boats out on the river, and made their escape northwards.

The time for Leo’s plan to succeed had long since passed. Yet even so, Leo Attiel was not going to call back his troops.

“Your Highness!”

Percy knelt down beside Leo beneath the dark red sky. The face under his helmet was covered in sweat, and his armour’s breastplate was stained with dark blood from those he had killed.

“Our units are reaching a level of damage that we cannot ignore anymore.”

“...”

“I deeply apologise ─ our strength was unable to live up to your expectations, Your Highness. For now, let us retreat.”

Sitting on horseback, Leo Attiel removed his helmet.He seemed about to fling it to the ground again, but then immediately changed his mind and placed it back on his head.

He could hear birds making a racket by the side of the river. They must be swarming because of the blood and flesh splattered about by the cannonballs.

“Withdraw,” Leo cried out. “We withdraw!”

While leading the movement, Leo glanced up towards the heavens. Dark black clouds seemed to be pulsating in the blood-red sky.

He ground his teeth.

They had obtained victory after victory. Yet in the end, the soldiers up on the ramparts were the ones shouting out triumphantly, and hurling abuse as they watched his soldiers leave.

He had lost.



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| Forward to [[Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume3_Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
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