Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

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LeitMeritz

I had a dream. It was not a good one.

On a small hill, our forces were gathered.

It was meal time. The fire burned high before the soldiers. A fish was placed in a pot.

There is a slight ridge before Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight. There, twenty thousand of Brune's soldiers were located. I was eating as always, five thousand soldiers around me were enveloped in the steam of their meal.

Tigre and Massas were talking when a number of young men appeared.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man, Zaien Thenardier, spoke with an openly mocking tone.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. They were a long distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. Many powerful aristocrat's relatives were employed there, and the territory they owned was wide. It is said the soldiers mobilized by the household can number in the tens of thousands.

Even in this war, which was organized in haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong.

Zaien was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir to the household. He was currently 17 years old.

He wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist, worthy of his lineage. He always had an expression as if looking down on others.

Behind him was an entourage of young men.

Zaien was born to the grand family of a Duke, wearing glittering armor with an engraved crest. He looked at Tigre with a grin.

Tigre could not ignore him. It was unavoidable he should show the minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject. I rally to his flag.”

“It's admirable to say that, though I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

Zaien ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapping his own. Zaien frequently harassed Tigre in such a manner as their age was similar.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words and stomped down at Tigre's bow laying on the ground.

Tigre moved in a reflexive manner, picking up his bow with agile movements, reminiscent of a beast's.

“Uwa!”

Having lost balance, Zaien and the people nearby fell over.

“What are you doing to Zaien-sama, you!”

This enraged his entourage, who began to yell at Tigre.

“I was protecting my bow!”

“Bow? The bow is a weapon of a coward!”

“That's right. You should just break that embarrassing thing. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“Someone like you, I'm sure the God of War, Trigraf, would never give you his blessings!”

The other people spoke in agreement. Tigre grit his teeth.

In this place, in Brune Kingdom, their complaints were appropriate.

“The bow is the arm of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”

Such ideology was deep rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow.

The achievement of those seen as excellent archers are considered after others, or perhaps never a subject of evaluation.

“The archers, drafted hunters, and farmers who do not own land have committed a serious crime as warriors. You should choose a sword or a spear, not a weapon those inferior people would use.”

Due to such a standard, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were abused like criminals or made fun of for the skill they had chosen.

Though Tigre's ancestor performed distinguished military services and was presented with territory for hunting and the title of Earl, Massas told him, “a hunter does not gather praise.”

“Calm down, everyone.”

Zaien stood up with help and controlled his followers.

Though reluctant to, he stopped blaming Tigre

The cloud of dust on Zaien's body was unnaturally brushed off. Zaien crossed his arms and laughed at Tigre in scorn.

“The reason you stick to bow is because you can't handle a sword or spear, right? At least, if you head to the battlefield with a bow, you can pretend to be a soldier.”

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear.

If he objected here and took up a sword or spear, Zaien would simply laugh again. This had happened once before.

Zaien's taunt continued.

“To begin with, you are an Earl of the Kingdom of Brune and you can't use a sword or a spear. Isn't it shameful to head to the battlefield without wearing armor? Look. Look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather gauntlet, leather armor, and even leather greaves. At most, his mantle is decent. His financial condition must be downright pathetic.”

“--- Lord Zaien.”

Massas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words are eloquently spoken, however, if you say so much, surely you will become thirsty...”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“Why not ration out the wine and cure that thirst.”

Using a polite and humble tone, Massas' attitude put pressure on the other side. The dignity of this old Knight, who had just turned 55, made Zaien swallow.

Zaien grunted and stepped back involuntarily, right into a pile of dung. He then turned around.

“Let's go, everyone.”

Watching Zaien and the others walk away, Tigre thanked Massas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“No, no, I'm sorry I couldn't say anything Earlier.”

From Zaien's perspective, Massas' small aristocracy was no different from Tigre's. Regarding the timing, their families existed for a similar amount of time. He would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Massas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldiers or aristocrat, all were concentrated on their pots, polishing their armor, or amusing themselves with chatter. There was nothing unnatural to be seen.

They were afraid of Zaien and avoided relations with Tigre.

“I know you can handle the sword and spear, but it is not a proof of courage.”

Massas spoke in irony. Tigre moved closer on the log. He listened to the conversation of the nearby aristocrats.

“By the way, did you hear about Duke Ganelon?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes on the pretext of preparing for war?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house not paying taxes, she is kidnapped, and the house set on fire as punishment.”

“It's a bit enviable, having the authority to place a temporary tax.”

He felt a righteous indignation. The aristocrat complained.

Duke Ganelon and Thenardier were the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom.

There were also many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives. His power was not something the King could disregard.

Regarding territory, Brune nobles were recognized and allowed to govern a territory, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the King was necessary.

Ganelon imposed it, causing an outrage to break out from the people within his territory, but the King seemed to tolerate it.

“For a story like that, Sir Thenardier will not be beaten easily. He has taken an oath for as long as the war continues that not a single drop of alcohol can be sold.”

“I see. But it's not hard to make it. What happens to those found making alcohol?”

“Ganelon took to kidnapping the family's daughters. As for this, a sword is given to husband and wife or the father and son and they are made to kill each other. I hear they bet on who wins.”

Tigre clenched his fist, hearing the conversation.

Massas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.

“Calm down.”

“What, how can I possibly remain calm?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing can be done, even if you say something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, boiling with anger.

He wished to shout his feelings, but he desperately grit his teeth and held his silence.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion to be human. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the content of the conversation and the men who spoke proudly of such things. Finally, he was angry at his helplessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now, is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor... there have been many similar rumors. Still, the people in question have not denied it. They do not appear that often, so we have no way of knowing.”

It could not be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world, nor did he have any ambition. He was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Zaien, as well, was the only son of a large aristocrat, and the only one he met face to face.

“His Majesty, he is tolerant of such behavior...?”

Fearfully, he asked.

He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Massas' stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty may not know... It is certainly possible for both His Highness, Prince Regnas, and our King to not know.”

Massas' eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and saw Tigre. Without thinking, he reached up and thrust his finger into Tigre's mouth.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out.

Furthermore, the fingers were cold and tasted like iron.

◎

He awoke, a dim ceiling in Tigre's view.

“--- So you woke up with this guy.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation and felt something withdraw from his mouth.

Holding a sword in her hand was a woman with golden hair whom he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start.”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned a gaze and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre set up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves which reached to her elbows and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword.

She was possibly taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older.

She was unmistakably a beautiful woman, but her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features.

Tied on the left side of her head was long, golden hair.

Her azure eyes were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.

Tigre inadvertently stared at the two swellings which bulged from beneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on.

Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... How can you sleep so well.”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.

“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limlisha. It is not necessary to remember it.”

LeitMeritz was a principality located in the Kingdom of Zhcted, under Eleanora's rule.

Eleanora's troops arrived at the capital yesterday. It had been ten days since they departed from Dinant.

After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora left the men to her adjutant, Limlisha, and returned to the King's capital with several men.

It was necessary to report her victory to the King.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”

Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it would not be possible for them to accept. Regardless, there was no method since she departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the King.

Since he had no other options, Tigre remained quietly obedient.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Following Limlisha, Tigre walked down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limlisha gazed back at him in amazement as Tigre looked about like a child.

“Yes, I just thought it is a splendid building.”

“You are an Earl, an aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one.”

He responded without any shame. Tigre looked about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom, and now he was in the province's Imperial Palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.

The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In the vast area, soldiers were working hard, training. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace.”

Limlisha answered as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their job.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like a younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

--- Teita must be worried.

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

--- Batran, and everyone else as well, I hope you made it back safely.

In his chest, there was impatience.

He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, a prisoner who escapes is punishable by death, so he could only remain quiet.

They finally left the palace.

He walked for a while before Limlisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... No, please do so. It would save quite a bit of time and effort.”

Limlisha spoke as she let the sound of her sword escape its sheathe at her waist.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now; we were enemies just ten days ago.

“Hm, you came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limlisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”

Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“I received an ancestral name. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly shined. The dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age.

“In that case, Ellen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke in an intimate manner with a prisoner. Saying it poorly, she was being over-familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limlisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.

“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limlisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now. She is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Though puzzled as to how he should react, Tigre thanked her honestly.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal.

However, on the way back from Dinant, Tigre was never abused. He was even given proper food.

Though it may have been because he was Ellen's captive, Limlisha – that is, Lim, was the one who properly managed him.

She did not respond to Tigre. What had to be done was done.

However, Lim hid her anger as she was thanked by ignoring Tigre and facing Ellen.

“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your trivial errands early, correct?”

“I know, I know.”

Ellen smiled bitterly and waved. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately.

“I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If, in fifty days time, the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune, that is, if a ransom has not been paid to me, you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the God, Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war.

It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Ellen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.

It was a number close to the total tax revenue raised by Alsace in three years time.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it impossible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

--- Well, there's no reason for her to.

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the Imperial Palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will lead to the death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

--- If I can speak to Teita or Batran, or perhaps Sir Massas, who is more widely known, they may be able to raise the money.

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs.

Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Ellen.

--- I must return to Alsace.

I was born and raised there. It is an important land I inherited from my father.

I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.

Above all, I promised Teita I would return.

I wish to answer their desires.

“So... What business do you have to call me to such a place?”

Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Ellen's crimson eyes smiled happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that is not all I called you here for.”

Ellen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall.

“Shoot an arrow from here and hit that.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre, who was on the defensive, felt it was rather anti-climactic.

The distance to the target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters). Even for those skilled with the bow, the distance would seem a joke.

Although it was difficult to shoot an arrow that far, it was nothing more than annoying to hit a target as well.

However, the distance was not a big deal for Tigre.

Though he did not know what she was plotting, he decided to do it quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair down to his shoulders.

Tigre received the bow and arrow from him. His eyebrows moved slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable, and the condition of the grip was poor. The stringing, too, was poorly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what his intention was.

Ellen glanced at him at a distance like a child, filled with expectation. Is she not involved? If that's the case, it's unlikely this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.

He was unsure if she knew of this.

An unpleasant thought crossed his mind. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that good, either.

--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... In the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The choice of materials, as well, was taken from knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zhcted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not due to just Tigre's skill but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he looked at the soldier who passed him the bow in his peripheral vision and saw several soldiers grinning.

“Such a petty trick.”

Because he was angry, a murmur leaked from his mouth.

“What is it?”

Lim, who stood nearby, looked at him dubiously. Apparently she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something. It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows, only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with one arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seems she had not noticed the bow was inferior.

“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to hold this another day.”

“No, I will do it.”

He answered with a strong tone. Tigre set the bow in his hand.

“However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and immediately walked to Ellen. After speaking a few words, Ellen looked at him devoid of any dissatisfaction, as if saying “Please begin.”

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders, others looked at him in pity or contempt. Many gazes pierced Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?”

Lim, speaking with an irritated voice, looked to Ellen.

Ellen looked troubled. Though she was trying to properly solve a problem, she looked at him as if she were scolded by a teacher.

“I'll do it.”

Tigre eagerly replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you still continuing? You're really willing to make a spectacle of yourself, still?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Though he can reach the target, he can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow.”

Though the soldiers deliberately spoke ill, Tigre was not bothered.

He was accustomed to such abuse. He had received mental abuse incomparable to this many times.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

In Tigre's vision was a black shadow.

--- What is that?

His neck stopped moving and he looked closely.

In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Ellen.

“Get down!”

--- An arbalest...!

It was different from the bow Tigre used. It was a mechanical bow; the bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger.

It was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, but it could reach three-hundred-fifty alsin (approximately three-hundred-fifty meters) at maximum and easily pass through shields and armor with enough force for the bolt to come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart held one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest.

The roar of air sped straight toward Ellen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Ellen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.

Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

--- What just happened?

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Ellen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

--- This has nothing to do with me.

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Ellen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Ellen.

“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

Teita, Batran and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Ellen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

--- At this distance, I won't miss.

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.

The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.

“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Ellen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Ellen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Ellen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

--- Just now...

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Ellen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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