Goblin Slayer - Volume 12 - Chapter 4.5

Interlude - Of A Council With The King And His Advisers

“All right, I understand the situation now.” The young king of the land leaned wearily on the arm of his throne and sighed deeply. He had an office (separate from his throne room) with a perfectly good chair in it; the throne was all elegant and cushy. He thought it would be more efficient simply to shut himself up in his office and work, but somehow he didn’t think he could get away with that.

What, are they afraid I’ll just abandon my duties?

He glanced to the side, where a red-haired cardinal was standing. The cardinal snapped, “Your Majesty.”

“Yes, yes,” the king replied, and looked down at the papers in his hand. Even in the royal family there were many who could not read or write—one need only hire a scribe to help them—but it was nonetheless a useful skill to have. He wished he could funnel a little more money into proselytization for the God of Knowledge, but… Well, best focus on the task at hand.

“So just when we thought the real action was the unrest in the east, we find out the army of evil had their base in our own territory all along.”

“A most ordinary occurrence, I daresay.”

“Hence, why we never seem to have enough money or resources.”

It seemed like the most common thing in the world. No country existed that had limitless amounts of everything at all times. Collect too many taxes, and there would be a rebellion. Fail to collect enough taxes, and the national coffers would run dry. Without money in the treasury, it would be impossible to implement policy, and then there would be more grumbling. No part of the running of the nation could be neglected, and yet one was only given so many cards to play. One had to use them thoughtfully, one turn at a time.

Frankly, it’s a lot easier running a party of six people, the king thought. The red-haired cardinal snickered softly, and smiled as if reading the king’s mind. “In all history, the only flawless nation-states have existed in the imagination.”

“And is that a reason I shouldn’t aim to have the first real one?”

As if they hadn’t had this discussion before. The king shrugged in a gesture not unlike a lion. The cardinal nodded. “At least the ideals of the country may have their feet on the ground, and be more than peasants dreaming in between the jobs on their farms.”

“That’s the idea.”

The king nearly sighed—he had lost count of how many times this was—but managed to hold it back in deference to the cardinal, who was looking at him as if to say that all he ever did was complain. He coughed once to cover himself, then pointedly rolled up a sheet of sheepskin parchment.

“It looks like we’re maintaining the battle line,” he said. “The soldiers are holding out well. Make sure they have all the supplies they need.” It wasn’t that the national treasury had much to spare. But only a fool would begrudge his troops the provisions they needed. “The last thing I want to do is shoot our people in the back.”

“Very true.” The cardinal nodded without even looking at the paper. “Also, we have reports that a unique monster has appeared…”

“And been dispatched by adventurers, I see.” For the first time that day, the king looked genuinely pleased as he studied the paperwork.

“Your Majesty.”

“I didn’t say anything……… Ahh, shit.” The king scowled again, for a reason altogether unrelated to the cardinal’s scolding.

A silver-haired attendant, standing in one corner of the room, gave a proud thumbs-up, even though her studiously neutral expression never changed.

“…So, there was someone on the inside. That would explain how they knew what to do.” The king took a quick look at the report of the disturbance in the water town. “Sounds like those bastards were hoping to get to the capital.”

“Well, it is the hinge upon which the entire country turns,” the cardinal said lightly. “A map of the capital city, and of the castle grounds. Get ahold of those and who knows where your thoughts might go.”

“Heh! If they took me too lightly, they’d have another think coming!”

“I’d say it’s exactly because you’re so light that they thought they could just sweep you aside,” the silver-haired lady mumbled, entirely disrespectfully.

“The point is, the plot failed—we can worry about the legalities later,” the cardinal continued, not precisely acting proper either, and the king snorted, not the least amused. He passed the letter to the cardinal, who glanced over it again and then promptly threw it into the fire in the hearth.

“Waste of good parchment,” the silver-haired attendant commented, her tone just this side of sarcastic. But the cardinal had known the lady a long time, and was well acquainted with her barbs. He shook his head firmly and said, “Couldn’t have the report destroying itself automatically.”

“When you plan to deny all knowledge of me and my hired help if we’re captured or killed.”

“You were the one who decided that royal orders were to be fulfilled even at the cost of your life, and even if there were none to retrieve your corpses,” the king rejoined.

“True enough,” she said disinterestedly. That was what it meant to be a deniable asset. If that was the sort of thing you complained about, then you weren’t cut out for the job. The attendant knew perfectly well that her life was disposable. Instead, she turned girlish eyes on the king and said, “So, what are you going to do?”

“There’s nothing so pointless as a game in which all the cards are faceup,” the cardinal answered, seemingly intuiting what the king was thinking.

“That’s right,” he said, nodding. “I don’t have to lower myself to playing along with their little tricks. Did you see what we received from the esteemed lady from the frontier?”

The responses were immediate:

“Ah, you mean the scroll, sire.”

“Awfully convenient timing.”

The king grinned as if seeing his plans come to fruition. “The Gate spell. Hmph… Chaos sons of bitches aren’t the only ones who can go chasing after maps.”

“I never realized we knew someone who dealt in such things,” the silver-haired lady said; she sounded impressed, but her expression changed not at all. “Color me surprised.”

“Many are the secret sages in this world, the great magicians of scant renown, spell casters of skill unknown, and hermits,” the cardinal said.

“Nobody knows what lies in the deck, though many purport to.” The king crossed his arms and grinned like a wild beast, as if he were staring down the forces of Chaos even then. “So, all we can do is cut the deck. Find some excellent cards, something powerful, with which to put an end to the game.”

“Hrm.” The young, silver-haired lady crossed her arms in front of her chest, a most unladylike gesture, and added with the conviction of a veteran soldier, “Then we’ll need a diversion.”

“Yes, I should think so.”

“An entire army? A small unit?”

“Small numbers,” the king said promptly. “I’ll leave the personnel decisions to you. But well-known people, if possible.”

“You got it.” The attendant nodded and worked her way gracefully out of the throne room. Or perhaps it was only because they were accustomed to the way she moved that they could discern the grace. To someone not so accustomed, it would have seemed she simply vanished, like a shadow.

“Get the army underway, too. This is a major battle. We need to draw the enemy forces out of their base, as many of them as possible.”

“As you command,” the cardinal said with a respectful bow of his head.

That ought to do the trick. Use the army as a distraction, while a picked force struck the vital point. The enemy would be expecting that, no doubt, so the small force would have to split up to attack. One ought to strike where a wild card was expected—but not letting your enemy know which one was the wild card; that was the key to strategy.

Committing one military force after another was to throw good after bad—but only if things didn’t work out for you. To commit your forces when you knew what the enemy strength was—that, was in fact, good strategy. This had been the immovable principle ever since the hero in shining chain mail had changed the war game forever.

Good after bad; that, they told you, was what you had to avoid.

But maybe they should have said, “unless the time is right.” The thought came upon the king quite suddenly, and he found it very congenial. To leave everything to his subordinates and advisers would itself have been the behavior of a foolish ruler.

“And who will we send on the job, Your Majesty?”

“Let’s see, here…”

Distinguished adventurers would be ideal. Silver, at least.

They were looking to infiltrate an enemy base and topple their leader. So some dungeon-delving experience would be a must. And it wouldn’t be feasible to get in and out of this situation with the sword alone; some magical ability was called for. Then, too, the infiltration party couldn’t be discovered. Absolutely no more than six people could go.

Adaptability was another requirement. The enemy might bring any number of ploys to bear, so the members of this mission should have experience with a wide variety of monsters and combat situations. It wasn’t just about who went and what level they were, either. They would need a panoply of items and gear at the ready.

All of which was to say, the leader would have to be someone capable of bringing and holding together such a guerrilla force. And above all, they would have to be able to act immediately.

“All right, then…!”

“Majesty…”

When the king jumped up from his throne, the red-haired cardinal greeted him with a tone of complete resignation. The young ruler, of course, was not the least bit interested in listening to him.

Perhaps the best thing that could be said of this king was that he would always decide for himself whether to heed any exhortations. Let them call him a throne-warmer who spent all his time mulling over how to make his lands more peaceful. If they wished to say he was a good-for-nothing who’d come up from being an adventurer, let them see if they could stand up to a good punch from him. If he told those people, fine, they could run the country—they would turn tail and run. Such people were simply full of themselves, convinced that they were smarter and more accomplished than anyone else.

But what did he care? If it was an honor even to be punished by the king, it must surely be a dishonor to be brought low by the third son of some poor knight.

“Summon the captain of the royal guard. And the palace wizard, too. They must be getting bored.”

“Majesty.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the king said, and smiled in what he thought was a reassuring manner. “You get your stuff together, too. Your fire staff, and the ice chain mail. Maybe I should call the others, as well. Biggest thing to happen to us in a while.”

“…” For the first time that day, the red-haired cardinal let out a sigh. It seemed the report from the water town was the way the king intended to deal with all his built-up frustration. Now, what to do about it…

“Excuse me…,” a probing voice broke in from a corner of the throne room.

There she stood, her posture erect, her clothing perfectly fitted to the shape of her body, the aluminum sword at her belt—Female Merchant.

“Hrm,” the king grunted, upset of course to have someone rain on his parade. Those two words were the first thing this woman had said since she arrived; she had otherwise been completely and diligently silent. He knew there was no reason not to listen to her; he stilled his hand, which had been reaching for the vacuum sword at his hip. “What is it? You know you’re welcome to speak your mind at any time.”

“May I indeed, Your Majesty?”

“I’ve never known your counsel to be ill-considered.”

“…But I have done my share of very foolish things.” The slightest of rueful smiles seemed to creep over Female Merchant’s face, barely a twitch of her lips. She let her gaze drop to the ground for a mere second, then she raised her head and looked straight at the king. “My mind, then. There is a report I must bring to Your Majesty.”

“What would that be?”

“I thought you might ask that, sire,” Female Merchant said, “so I took the liberty of summoning them already.”

That was when the door flew open with a bang, and a voice as refreshing as a spring breeze came flying through the room: “Maaajeestyyy! We’re heeere!” The sound of two sets of footsteps followed, and his little sister came tumbling into the room.

“Manners!” scolded a black-haired woman, but she quickly tried to compose herself in the presence of the king.

One ought to strike where a wild card was expected—but not letting your enemy know which one was the wild card…

The king groaned softly and tried to find the words. Finally, he said the only thing that came to his mind: “…A fine strategy.”

“My thanks, sire.” Female Merchant smiled with just a hint of pride, but the king slumped back onto his throne with a sigh.