Birac was Mephius’ second capital. Its plateaus were separated into layers spread across a gorge. The upper layer was lined with white marble buildings clearly designated for the upper echelons, and the lower layer consisted of houses standing directly before the cliff for the common class.
In the upper class layer’s eastern districts, the Zwimm River flowed directly through. Day in and day out, great numbers of barges passed through this spot serving as a trading point with the various nations to the north. Business flourished. People from the other countries were also seen in large numbers.
Prince Gil, leading his troops, came to this city.
It was thought that he had come here to rest and would immediately leave for Apta. However it had already been three days since he first entered Birac and the prince still showed no signs of lifting his sluggish back up.
“Did you hear? The prince’s soldiers received a fair share of spending money from the prince and are off to their own dallying every night.”
“It seems that they acted out of hand in Yulia’s store. I’ve heard it was because there weren’t any girls they liked.”
“Speaking of Prince Gil, you know, he’s famous for being a dimwit. He’s recently raised his name from subjugating Ryucown’s forces and stopping Zaat’s rebellion, but as expected, this isn’t normal.”
Such news and rumours also reached Birac merchant Zaj Haman’s ears countlessly.
“That type of man is scariest to deal with. He doesn’t follow common sense, you see. He’s exactly like a baby dragon, how the moment you think it has grown accustomed to people, it turns around and bites you the next instant. You can only pray it doesn’t come true,” Zaj said and shot out a candid laugh.
The merchants making up a significant portion of Birac’s population were self-regulating, and didn’t fear the imperials and nobles that constituted Mephius’ aristocrats any more than necessary. Of course, this didn’t mean they made light of the nobles, but this possibly being a unique trait of the merchants, they were more than willing to take up arms to protect their body and assets if they found themselves forced into nothing but undesirable conditions, even if it came to opposing the aristocrats.
“Won’t your business proceed smoothly regardless of what happens?”
“Surely not! Negligence is your greatest enemy. It only takes an instant for everything to fall apart without exception.”
Zaj was past his sixties, and even now frequented the store to show his face and stop by for a friendly chat over a drink. His business handled many clients that came from other towns and countries. If Zaj suspected the information he wanted was present amongst these clients, he would listen to their long, unending conversations even if it happened to be their first time meeting.
The illustrious merchant, Zaj Haman.
There were none in Birac who did not know his name. He was the man who owned the transport enterprise founded within the prosperous Birac, which yielded upwards of forty percent in profits, whose ships, engraved with the emblem of the Haman Firm, had continuously taken off from and returned to Port Birac to this day.
In the first place, businesses that used air carriers in Mephius were rare. Ether, the source of energy of these airships, was acquired from the vaporization of seawater using artefacts of ancient civilization. Mephius not being connected to any bodies of water made the securing of ether, particularly for the general populace, difficult. Unless it was an urgent matter, transport of goods by air carrier was typically not worth the payout.
However, Zaj Haman, having gone to Garbera to study in his earlier years and learned the ins and outs of operating airships, established Birac as a waypoint between the nearby coastal regions and pioneered an exclusive trading route with the northern floating city of Zavinia. The waters surrounding Zavinia were known for their high concentrations of ether, and even now, sales of the ether alone were said to finance the entire country’s economy.
The sovereign of Zavinia, General Kal Lighthel, had quickly become known for his cross personality, but Zaj crossed the waters to pay him visit thrice through which he secured a personal relationship with him.
Zaj saw not only to business with the populace, but also took to replenishing the army’s reserves during times of war. And in this year’s founding festival as well, on the occasion of the naval review where the number of readily available ships were few—and where the number of ships contributed was said to correspond to status—Zaj had loaned out ships to a good number of nobles for a small sum.
That is to say, his connections with the nobles also ran deep.
And also part of Zaj’s renown was how he hired people regardless of birthplace or nationality. The nationally diverse people he put to work and the also many people who went in and out of his store made collecting information easy. And in turn, there were also many merchants and servants of nobles who visited his store to buy this information, resulting in rumours going as far as to claim that Zaj Haman might in fact have more authority than Birac’s feudal lord Fedom Aulin.
“As for that Prince Gil,” Zaj inquired of a worker in a room on the second floor as he ate a late lunch meal.
“What is that prince in question doing here in Birac? Is he staying here long so he can have fun with any women he takes a liking to?”
“Now that you mention it…” the worker inclined his head. “We’ve frequently seen and also heard rumours of his soldiers doing this, but haven’t seen anything indicating this of the prince. Isn’t he simply idling around in Lord Aulin’s residence?”
“Hmph.”
To be honest, Gil Mephius proved elusive even for Zaj. Him not having a firm command over his soldiers and his overstaying his visit in Birac certainly went alongside rumours dubbing him a fool, but if that were the case, then sure enough it raised into question his role in the defeat of Ryucown on his first campaign and ability in holding Zaat’s rebellion in check.
Zaj spent nearly his whole lifetime bringing up the Haman Firm.
He found it hard to believe these stories that told of a fool who suddenly turned hero. His belief that this was a made-up story created in order to make Prince Gil seem more suitable as successor to the throne remained firm.
And there’s also the information that Birac’s feudal lord, Fedom, has recently started getting close to Prince Gil. It’d be no surprise for that man to back the prince and scheme to pull the strings from behind. However, it’s a tad too late to do that now. Perhaps the emperor’s health suddenly worsened, or perhaps some other man of importance had suggested 'that’ to Fedom, but there must have been some change that occurred to cause this.
Though Zaj held great interest regarding this topic, he was ultimately a merchant. He had neither intentions of sticking his head too deep into matters of imperial succession, nor plans to take advantage of this opportunity.
That evening,
“M-My lord!”
One of his workers came running in gasping.
“What is it? You’re causing a ruckus.” Raising his grey-haired head, Zaj grimaced.
He was overwhelmed with work every day. Now as well, he was in the middle of planning out the establishment of a new Haman Firm intermediary airship base in a village along the road connecting Birac to Apta, which had transferred back to Mephius.
“T-There’s a customer. He insists on meeting with you, my lord.”
“Won’t Bart do?”
Bart was Zaj’s second son. Zaj entrusted the first floor of the store and the handling of the importation of general goods to the son and his wife.
The worker shook his head.
“Who exactly is this so-called guest?”
It couldn’t be that this was part of a garrison raid, could it? As Zaj began to knit his brows, an unexpected name rung in his ears.
“Why, I’m most pleased to welcome you here. I would have never possibly imagined your grace would set foot in a place like this. If there had been prior notice, I would have been able to quickly prepare a more appropriate welcome,” Zaj said with a smile while rubbing his hands.
He by no means allowed his inner unrest to show on his face.
This guest was curiously examining the goods of the store he took into his hands.
“I don’t mind. I wasn’t expecting a warm reception,” Orba gave an amenable nod.
“Please excuse me as I go prepare some tea.”
Zaj, while smiling, devoted his whole attention to observing the guest.
The Mephius Imperial Dynasty’s Crown Prince, Gil.
His height wasn’t too prominent but his darkish skin and lean figure denoted a body belonging to a soldier, and above all, the fleeting glance cast his way was surprisingly sharp. Zaj did not see anywhere the man rumoured a fool. However it was also common for impressions of people based on appearances to differ from the actual contents.
This is.......but what could the prince himself have possibly come here for?
He had suddenly shown up together with a soldier whose looks could be mistaken for a woman’s. If he had only come here to shop, then dealing with his son Bart should have more than sufficed. Zaj prayed nothing would happen on some ridiculous whim, but he feared that exact possibility would bear fruit.
“I thought I’d come here for a small chat. You see, I heard information on various countries could be bought here with money.”
“Whether it be goods or information, I handle them all. You could call it the trade of a merchant. It’s quite the bothersome trait. When asked ‘Do you have it?’ we cannot readily say ‘I do not’. That is why day in and day out we search high and low through all means possible, but as expected, I fear as to whether our services may satisfy the expectations of a prince.”
“It’s nothing much,” Orba spoke as he took out a pocket watch from the shelf and examined it. “You’re aware of where I’m heading to, right?”
“Apta Fortress.”
“That’s right. And opposite there, is Ax Bazgan situated in the west. To get straight to the point, I want information on Ax Bazgan. I want information of all the territory comprising the former Zer Tauran, and that includes information on the Tauran Provinces.”
“Gil-sama,” Zaj began without changing his expression.
“Trade in Mephius with the west is strictly forbidden. Directly obtaining information on them is somewhat difficult. Tomorrow, I am expecting visitors from the northern coastal nations and I can see what information I can get, but with what I have at present...”
“So you don’t have it?”
“At present........no.”
There was a short pause. Gil was, still as ever, examining the pocket watch. The surrounding slaves and workers nervously sent occasional glances as they watched the exchange.
It turned out to be a whim after all.
Zaj harboured this thought within. Didn’t he only happen to hear rumours about the Haman Firm and deciding to test it out, show up here? In that case, Zaj would keep him company, greatly disappoint him, and then have him sent home packing his bags.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m sorry?”
Gil’s expression also didn’t change. Smiling thinly, he looked up away from the watch.
“Why do you think I went out of my way to come here? Zaj Haman. You should be engaging in those forbidden transactions with the west.”
“I beg to differ that—”
“I don’t need your small talk,” Gil Mephius firmly stated. “I believe it to be true. That makes it unquestionable. There’s no need for me to establish further proof, nor do I have any intention of purposely declaring it. You get what I’m saying, right?”
“...........”
Maintaining his expression, Zaj felt a faint shiver creep down him.
At that time, a servant brought a drink over. Zaj refused it. He opened his mouth and carefully spoke.
“If you have the time, why don’t we go outside together?”
Zaj and Gil Mephius headed towards one of the warehouses owned by the Haman Firm in the harbour.
Along the way, Zaj touched on Prince Gil’s glorious feats and gave praise to them, but the prince had not even offered a simple reply. Casting a sidelong glance at the bronze barges traversing in and out of the port, they entered an all but inconspicuous warehouse.
“I’m sorry to trouble you to come all the way out here.”
They proceeded towards the third floor, which turned into a simple office. Zaj personally set up cups on the table and poured fruit wine in them.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the wall spun around and soldiers came flying out right about now.
Gil Mephius—his real identity being Orba—chuckled.
Though he knew of the illustrious merchant Zaj Haman’s name, he had no plans of visiting him of course, until just shortly before his departure from Mephius. However, when he found out about the trade ban with the west, Orba noticed something was off. As he searched for the reason within his memories, he hit on that fine point.
Oh right.
Orba had been in none other than this Birac. With the succeeding villages burned down by Oubary’s troops immediately after Apta had fallen, the city he scrambled to arrive at was this very Birac.
There, taking the role of leading the boys, he passed four years robbing and running an illegal gambling house.
And just as Orba was doing now, he spread out the boys who acted as his eyes and ears, when he caught wind of a certain piece of information. A small fleet of air carriers loaded with golden nuggets and goods were being readied at the harbour. Nonetheless, this wasn’t listed on the port authority listing of flights. The Haman Firm likely bribed the authorities, planning to stealthily sneak off late into the night.
If it’s like this, it won’t be reported to the Birac garrison even if I attack it.
Thinking this, Orba set up a plan to attack those merchant ships. And while he was advancing his preparations, one of the boys belonging to the rival group that slipped in amongst his subordinates reported him.
And then I was imprisoned.
Indeed, it was in this very Birac, where Orba’s planned assault on the merchant ships was revealed and his various other crimes exposed, resulting in the engraving of the slave’s brand onto his back and a situation that forced him into wearing the mask.
What a strange coincidence.
Orba leisurely approached the window, belying the cautious guard he kept over his back. Making use of the incident that resulted in his imprisonment, he was now meeting with the top man of the Haman Firm as Prince Gil. And what he wanted now, more than anything, was information Zaj Haman was holding.
Then, a single small bird flew down on the windowsill. It’s body covered with light brown feathers, it pecked its bill.
“Those feathers once used to be a brilliant yellow.”
“Hm?”
Standing behind him, Haman respectfully offered a cup of wine, which Orba received.
“It’s among the merchandise we’ve brought in from across the globe. But having grown in age, it’s colour has faded. However, it’s vibrant voice alone hasn’t changed in the slightest. Though its appearance has changed, its songs do not forget it’s birthplace—as versed men like to say.”
“Oh?”
Orba concentrated his ears. Its chirps had reached his ears countless times but he hadn’t found himself particularly moved in any way. Though now that Zaj mentioned it, Orba could somewhat feel the perpetual flow of time in its songs.
“It’s a shame it never gets to the crucial part.”
“Ah–“
With a light flap of its wings, the bird stood up and flew away.
“Now then,” Zaj spoke, returning to the original topic of the conversation. “What do you need from me?”
“It won’t change by having me repeat it. I want information.”
“Your Imperial Highness. This is not the palace nor do you possess a peerless number of troops here. It is especially in places like these that I hold more influence, more so than you or Lord Fedom. It might be too much for a young prince to understand, but even places like this exist in the world.”
“A threatening reprisal, is it?”
“It is only speculation. I could even kidnap you here and offer you to another country. Rather than continuing business in Mephius, I’m sure some country could prepare a far greater sum.”
Orba never drank from the cup handed to him. The same also went for Shique, so it was their end that spoke more frankly of their caution. After a short time passed, Orba spoke in bits.
“That wouldn’t be worth your while.”
“Worth my while?”
“Ax Bazgan has been a thorn in Mephius’ side for a long time. If that threat were to be taken away, you’d be able to freely do trade. Ah right, what do you say to leaving over half of the trading route in your hands?”
“Wh-What are you...”
Zaj instinctively cleared his throat. He thought to laugh it off for a second but Gil Mephius’ face was serious.
This man...
If he was seriously saying this, then he’d be far from the spoken fool unworthy to be a successor. He’d be a seldom seen idiot.
“...Unfortunate to say, your highness’ forces do not amount to much. More than ten years ago, his imperial majesty sent a force ten times yours to attack Taúlia. Of course, I’m sure you’re more than aware of the outcome. Ax Bazgan does not have such a huge force. But though the remnants of the former Zer Tauran may be undergoing civil strife, they are strangely cooperative towards outside enemies. What is it that your highness can possibly do in the face of a force rivalling Mephius’?”
“You’ve gotten rather talkative.”
It was proof of his true intentions, was what Orba was implying.
“Your highness.”
“I’ll admit that what I have is definitely small. It’s because of that that I want your information. Not old, moldy information but fresh information that you hold.”
“You’re saying if you have that, you could even bring down Taúlia?”
“How long have you been deceiving the Mephian nobles’ eyes and performing trade with the west?”
Orba responded with another question. Unable to regain hold of the conversation, Zaj had little choice but to be upfront.
“...Let’s say it’s been going on for seven years.”
“Would you rather have it end at seven years or would you rather have it run even more smoothly for another ten, twenty years?”
Ah, Zaj leaked out. In that instant, Orba drained his cup of its entire contents.
“I’ll ask you one more time, merchant of Birac.” Orba asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you have the information I want?”
Zaj felt his head swoon as he looked at the prince in front of him. His impression of him as an idiot hadn’t changed. However, if it were the meaning that defined an idiot...
“I do,” Zaj nodded and also drank his whole cup. He slammed the cup onto the table.
“On second thought, there won’t be a need for a second helping. I still don’t know if the information will be of any help to the prince. If it were to help you accomplish what you need, then by all means...”
Zaj had ordered a slave seeming to be a warehouseman to bring over a map, and spread it out on the table.
Pointing to the region of Zer Tauran in the west, he began speaking of its old history. Regarding the story of the Zerdian’s history, Orba also held a certain degree of knowledge from a book he read before he set off.
Afterwards, Zaj opened a map narrowing to the Apta outskirts.
Apta and Taúlia were cut off by the Yunos River running along the north and south. The fast streaming, expansive river served as the border. Apta Fortress was built above a cliff positioned by the river. Hence, the chances of Ax Bazgan advancing east were exceedingly slim.
“I won’t say there is no path to climb up the cliff, but in that time, there’d be nothing helping them avoid the fortress’ line of fire and they’d be completely defenceless. And, according to my reasoning, Taúlia likely has no dreadnought-class airship in its possession. It can at best manage a cruiser-class ship, carrying some 200-300 soldiers. However, I don’t believe they’d directly commence an attack from the visible sky.”
“This—would be the Tsaga Mines, huh.”
Looking at the spot Orba pointed out, Zaj flashed a grin. Roughly ten kilometres south of Apta, the river was broken by a series of mountains. In the past, this was known as the place where slaves and criminals were forced to work.
“Tragically harsh boundless labour, poisonous gases, wild dragons, and man-hunting geblin tribes—”
Orba had also relentlessly heard those words from the slave trader Tarkas. ‘If you don’t listen to me, I’ll toss you there,’ or so he’d been threatened. In short, it was a place that would even make the murderous, short-lived purchased slaves flinch.
If I remember right, Pashir also worked in this mine.
With the incident where Apta had been taken, it should have been shut down now. It was once said to have an abundance of resources, but thinking on how Garbera also hadn’t laid its hands on it, there shouldn’t be anyone currently willing to go as far as take the risk of mining there.
“So what that would mean, Haman...is that your ships pass through here.”
“Exactly,” Zaj lowered his white brows and broke into a smile. “There are dragons and geblins on the ground, but that doesn’t matter when you’re in the air. Well, in order to avoid detection by the Apta surveillance, the ships do need to continue flying at low altitude, so it doesn’t mean there exists absolutely no danger.”
“Is there a land route? One that soldiers can move through?”
“I’ve never actually seen it so I can’t say for sure, but—” Zaat began before breaking off into his thoughts for a brief moment. “Very well, I shall have one of my slaves accompany you.”
“A slave will?”
“She’s previously flown a merchant ship to the west and as such, is familiar with its terrain.”
“You let a slave handle a ship?” Shique asked, revealing his utmost surprise.
Whether this was a habit of Zaj’s when he laughed, he nodded repetitively and answered him.
“She has good eyes and a good sense, you see. It’s something I’ve driven into her from the beginning. —You, go call Krau over,” Zaj relayed to a warehouse slave.
Until the time this slave called Krau arrived, Zaj spoke about the recent unrest developing in the areas neighbouring Apta.
“Goods loaded on ships and wagons have been assaulted by a group of bandits. Beginning with Ax, the west is a sovereignless world overflowing with small powers. As a result of its political instability, there is a possibility of it carrying over here. Garbera has been guarding the trading route from Apta to its own lands, but of course the route secured into Mephius has remained unguarded. If the prince is to be keeper of Apta, I’d like you to first subdue the surrounding areas.”
“My lord, I have summoned her.”
“Ahh Krau, come here.”
Casting a side glance at Krau appearing at the entranceway, Orba found himself at a loss for words. She was completely different from how he’d imagine her. Taking his reaction in good humour, Zaj enquired,
“As for whether being fat in itself is a virtue, I’m sure the views of the Mephian nobles differ.”
“It can’t be that you called me here just to badmouth me in front of the customer, now could it? We’re busy people. Please hurry up and finish stating your business!”
Krau was a woman near her forties. Her body was rounded and her voice shrill, alongside her quick mouth. And to add to that, her attitude was flat-out rude of a different variety from all the slaves Orba had seen.
“Settle down now, Krau. I’d like to leave some work in your hands.”
“If it’s cleaning duty for the airships, I’ll have to say no,” Krau unconcernedly pulled her chin with a start for a short time. “Your vase smashing doesn’t fall on me anyway. It was that battered cat your grandson picked up on the streets. Since that stupid ill-bred cat’s come, the kitchen’s been laid to waste, and sharpening its claws, its even targeted my secret stash...”
“Now now...I’m only asking you to listen to what I have to say. It’s also my first, hearing about the vase.”
Zaj quite briefly explained the situation to Krau.
“This person? Is Mephius’ prince?”
You’d think to be given the chance to serve the crown prince in one’s lifetime would be astounding, but Krau stopped short at opening her eyes.
“You’ll do it, won’t you.”
“I am but a slave. As my lord commands.”
Her tone was polite, but the way her eyes directed towards the prince was evidently assessing his worth, as if stating Now then, will my new master be a person who will fill my stomach lots or not?
Master and slave both, I can’t stand either of them.
A rather bitter aftertaste lingered. He had marched into the Haman Firm hoping to get the upper hand, but the sudden development likewise left Orba little room to breathe.
At any rate, I got what I came for.
“I have another request to make.”
“Yes, what might that be?”
The face of Zaj who courteously lowered his head had already returned to that of a merchant.
“I’d like you to lend me ships. And a few able-bodied men as well.”
“Ships....well, how many would that be?”
Zaj raised his eyes with a knowing face. It was likely because he was aware Orba’s forces comprised a small battalion.
“About ten—merchant ships.”
“Merchant ships? I can arrange them as battleships if you’d like.”
“No, there’s no point if they’re not merchant ships. And also—make arrangements for when our flagship, Doom, comes to Birac. Then have them convene with us. As for the fine details after that, I’ll leave someone with the information, so you can just follow his instructions.”
“Very well...”
Having already finished the calculations in his head, Zaj didn’t try to ask for any more information.
The fifth day’s stay in Birac.
It was that time when the day was about to set. Orba’s troops—mainly the regular troops lent to him by Oubary Bilan and Odyne Lorgo—began to discuss which store they should check out and head to today.
“Well thanks to the prince doing nothing but lying around, we’ve gone to most of the famous stores.”
“Still, it’s good it hasn’t turned into a commotion. If it were our general Odyne Lorgo, things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”
“It’d be great if we stayed in Apta the whole time. I can’t imagine going to war with Taúlia now at this point in time.”
Currently, they had become soldiers led under the command of Gil Mephius, the main focus of their conversation, and the very title which frequently resulted in them being fawned by prostitutes. They raised their cups, their faces beet red, shouting ‘A toast to the prince!’ As for whether they would be saying the same thing were they to be standing in the face of death, that was a separate matter. In this way, they went out in their frolicking making it known their thereof lack of supervision. Vileena Owell, staring at them in the far-off distance, could do nothing short of feeling irritated.
“The number of troops granted to him are already few. If Taúlia were to advance its forces in large numbers, the whole bunch of them would go scurrying back home.”
“Please stop it with the whole bunch of them, princess.”
It wasn’t as if Theresia didn’t understand her mistress’ irritation, but they could do nothing but voice their complaints to those above them. It wasn’t only her conduct in speech that Theresia wanted her to stop, but also the drawing and cocking of her gun, which she had been doing for some time now.
She raised the gun lowered at her hips and took aim. She’d hung her own hand-made circular range target on the door, and the instant she turned around, she aligned the point of her gun to the centre of the target as if she couldn’t have it any other way.
Besides the piloting of airships, this refined technique had been taught to her by her grandfather as a means of self-protection. Once more, Vileena turned her back to the door. She closed her eyes to help sharpen her mind, steadied her breath, then breathed out.
“Yah!”
She cried, turning around and pointing the gun, zeroing in her line of sight. But it was at that moment that the door creaked open.
“Princess, here are the arranged deliveries—kyaahhh!”
“Waahhh!”
Her eyes met with the female attendant who entered and they both screamed out. A brief confusion and disarray, and after they both exchanged apologies, the attendant made a mad dash out of there, prompting a giggle from Theresia. Vileena glared back in return.
“You knew.”
“Why, what might you be talking about? Oh look, this dress is wonderful. The stand-up collar conforms to Garbera’s culture. Just what I’d expect from the trading town of Birac. It has a much better collection than Solon.”
Theresia feigned ignorance and looked at the pile of clothes brought over by the attendant. The wife of Fedom Aulin, the lord of Birac, had somewhat taken a liking to the princess and promised to have her attendant bring over some clothes today as well. Theresia had arranged the time and told all of the soldiers acting as guards that an attendant carrying a stack of clothes would be coming and to let her through.
“Could you be thinking of getting back at me?”
Vileena had turned the revolver of the gun with her finger. Though it could be considered practice, to preserve a feeling of tension, a single bullet had been loaded in.
“Since some time ago, Theresia, you’ve been acting out in spite.”
“Well, why shouldn’t I be? You directly spoke with the emperor without any prior warning. When I heard about it afterwards, I thought I was going to faint.”
“If the alliance were to disappear, it would also lose meaning in my being here. There’s no point in being afraid of back-talk arising calling me things like a forward princess.”
Vileena discontentedly turned the revolver in her hand repeatedly.
Though she had agreed to travel to Apta with Gil, she of course harboured doubts that the emperor had done this to remove the prince from the centre of politics. Furthermore, the rumour that the emperor had been frequently meeting with a messenger from Ende since she’d come here had also been brought to surface.
Isn’t Emperor Guhl merely trying to cleverly set himself up in the relations between Garbera and Ende?
Vileena’s standing was at best one half progressed into marriage, and by this deed, that position would grow increasingly insecure.
The princess had originally braced herself for marriage were that to be for the good of her homeland Garbera. If that were to yield no results whatsoever, she was ready to jet out of the country by airship.
“But the most pressing concern is Taúlia. If this escalates into a war with Mephius, any possibility of sending reinforcements to Garbera disappears. —Though I can’t help feeling that was the emperor’s aim from the start. All the more reason why he didn’t dare award the prince an army that surpassed Taúlia’s. I question whether our prince leisuring around here understands that.”
“I’m sure he’s thought of something. It’s been that way up until now as well.”
“Is that so.” Dropping her back onto the chair with a thump, Vileena swung her legs back and forth.
“I’ve also thought that, so I’ve been holding it in and haven’t said anything about our overstay here in Birac. I’ve even considered this might be some plan to strengthen his hold on the soldiers. But isn’t this a pickle?”
“Now, now, princess. If that immodest appearance of yours were to be seen by the prince, you can’t hope to even begin to awaken a hundred year’s of love.”
I’ll burn myself if I make light of the prince.
The great hero Ryucown and Mephius’ aristocrat Zaat Quark. Vileena had seen with her own eyes how these two who opposed him met the same fate. She could feel he was no ordinary person and yet in the face of this, she also found it hard to accept that fact.
“In short, it’s that he’s, yes, immature would be the way to put it. Orba also said it. He’s secretive, and in spite of his meticulous preparations, he thoroughly performs them without informing his surroundings. Then at the critical moment he makes a display that surprises everyone as if to boast, ‘Hey, did you see that?’ Children really are such troublesome creatures.”
“Truly.”
Not noticing the hinted meaning behind Theresia’s remark, Vileena continued,
“I can also try to incite the prince and have him send reinforcements to Garbera. Now then, how should I proceed to manipulate the prince according to my wishes…”
“At the very least, it won’t be by practising mastering your gun handling.”
At that point in time, there was a knock on the door. The one who named himself on the other side was none other than Gil Mephius.
As expected, this was enough to make even Vileena’s face go red, and she immediately stood up from her seat and hid the gun under the couch in a flurry.
Gil entered the room and made a bow.
“We’re leaving tomorrow. Get ready.”
“Tomorrow? Are you all finished? With you business here in Birac, that is.”
“All finished.”
“I suppose it would be wrong of me to ask of the fine details. After all, you must see me as an improper lady.”
“No,” Gil said, his face going sour. “It goes as far as borrowing some ships from a Birac merchant. It took a little more time than I had hoped though.”
“Ships? Aren’t there a shortage of soldiers to operate them?”
“Well, I won’t say that’s not wrong—it’s not a worrying amount exceeding the numbers we have.”
“Prince.”
Her face turning serious, Vileena looked upwards at Gil. Caught off guard by their unexpectedly close distance, the prince’s face strangely tensed.
“W-What is it?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Vileena lowered her pallid face. Her shoulders dropped down powerlessly.
Gil, after seeing her hesitant action, spoke up.
“...You’re worried about Garbera, aren’t you, princess?”
Though she had been speaking about how to get the prince to send reinforcements to them just now, having that directly said to her made Vileena startle. The single worry she didn’t want him to know felt as if it had been pricked open.
“It’s nothing that has to do with the prince.”
“It’s not something that has absolutely nothing to do with me.”
Orba started to get angry. Vileena shrugged her shoulders.
“It’s the same for you, prince. You never do me the honour of divulging your stratagems to me. It’s the same for me. I have my own strategies.”
“Strategy?”
“Say for example…”
As Vileena began to speak, Theresia was horrified to see her pull out the hidden revolver. She thrust the gun at the prince, his eyes likewise open in surprise.
“If I were to, at some point, use this to take you hostage and demand some soldiers.”
“Take me hostage? What would you do with those soldiers?”
“I’m sure you already know. I’ll personally lead them and go running over to Garbera.”
Because she had said it with her chest held high, even Vileena at this point realised it was a crude plan.
“...Although I’ll have you know I’ve thought of a more elaborate plan. This is only an if.”
There was a short pause. Then Gil burst out into laughter. Vileena knit up her brows.
“Is there something funny?”
Everything about it was, princess, Theresia whispered to Vileena in a hushed voice, but then Gil waved his hand.
“Ah, I get it. Then I’ll exercise my plans in a way so that you won’t have to enact your sure-kill plan.”
“Sure-kill...you’re making fun of me. I’ve thought of others. Really, I have,” Vileena obstinately insisted.
But why was it that she felt Gil was making fun of her from his behaviour, and at some point Theresia had also joined in on the laughter. Finally managing to suppress his laughter,
“Well then princess, be sure to hurry with the packing.”
“I’ve already finished that a long time ago!” Vileena voiced out in objection to the end.
As Theresia watched the princess who saw off the departing prince’s back, she quietly murmured.
My, what a strange relationship the two of them have. They’re like a little brother and sister playing at war. That is amusing in itself, but it seems that it will take much much more time before their relationship develops into a romantic one.
The following day, Gil gave out official notice for their departure early morning.
With the exception of the Imperial Guards and Pashir and the war slaves, the soldiers were naturally forced into a large scramble.
As they held their heads from the pain of two day’s worth of drinking, they hurriedly put on their armour and saddled onto their horses.
“Shit! That damned fool!”
The soldiers grumbled, a significant few not having had the time to tie together the string of their armours as a result of being rushed.
“He could have at least told us beforehand.”
“I’ll bet it was the gallant Garberan princess who’d given him a good kick in the arse.”
Everyone just barely arrived finishing lining in formation, and they then departed through the Birac gates. Their departure this time had been by the prince’s own discretion, so there was no crowd to see them off.
Serving as vanguard were the dragoons riding atop the small-sized Tengo. The carriage the princess rode in was protected by the best warriors handpicked from the imperial guards in the centre, and the horse cavalry in the front and rear, the clicking of their hooves echoing into the distance, with the foot soldiers fortifying the defences in all four directions further out.
Pulling the cages with several Baians within were the large-sized Houban. A flat body with eight long legs. In terms of appearances, it might as well have been a giant spider covered in scales.
Roughly one hour after departing from Birac.
“This is strange,” a single man muttered in the back of the march. Chains were fastened around both his arms, connecting to a cage harbouring several dragons in front of him. The man walking beside him, possibly owing to fatigue, used only his eyes to ask the meaning behind the words.
“The number of soldiers are decreasing. Why did he assign some of the already few troops to Birac?”
“Looks like you’re paying quite the attention,” another man behind him joined in. “As for me, I don’t have that leisure. My bet is that they ran away. If it weren’t for these annoying chains, I’d do that too.”
“If it’s about that, they were left to reinforce the personnel at Birac—”
“Pashir!”
At that point in time, a white horse turned around and came over from the front.
“Looks like you still have the leisure to chitchat. Should I try increasing the pace a bit?”
“Gil.”
Orba looked down from his horse on Pashir, who walked pulling the dragon cart. His eyes shone with light amidst the dirt and cloud of dust covering his face. The number of war slaves was a little over two-hundred. Already more than half of them appeared to be pulling the four dragon carts.
“About the whole rush. What for? At any rate, we can’t even hope to defend the fortress with these numbers. What are you scheming with the evil face of yours this time?”
“It’s nothing for a slave to worry over,” Orba sneered. “More importantly, what’s with that attitude? I went through all that trouble to save your skin. Be sure not to get on my bad side so that it doesn’t go to waste.”
“Then, if I may request a favour, crown prince,” Pashir spoke satirically. He was the only one making a face that seemed to indicate he could continue walking for months or even an entire year.
“What is it? Enlighten me.”
“Once we get to the fortress, maybe you could let me have a match with that gladiator, Orba. And a long sword, for a one-on-one. No, actually, I don’t mind if I have to do it bare-handed. I’m sure it’ll be an exciting sideshow as you drink yourselves off.”
“I was wondering what you were going to ask. You two already fought plenty in Solon, haven’t you?”
—This guy...
Orba remained cold, suppressing the ferocious smile that seemed to unconsciously form.
“Both our lives are still intact. The match hasn’t been decided!”
“If he also feels the same way, then I’ll eventually give you a chance.”
Orba flashed a smile and once more, trotted his horse back to the front.
Domick Flats—the entire plane was a colourless flatland. However, each time the horses’ feet tread the earth, Orba felt his spirits lift. After all, Orba’s hometown was within a short distance of Apta, and while it also contained gruesome memories for him, approaching near it now after over six years had resurrected those strong feelings once more.
Finally, after taking two breaks and around the time the sun cast a shadow over the lands, a change began to be seen in the expanse of rocky mountain scenery and sandy terrain. Greenery appeared bit by bit as they climbed up the hill. Situated some several kilometres further out was a village where a messenger had been deployed beforehand. They lodged in the village of no more than two-hundred houses as billets for the night.
The next day, the troops entered the woods. The branches of the trees densely weaved together like a roof, the lighting dim. It was as if they were advancing through the inside of a cave.
Apta was an invaluable region to Mephius for its abundance of forests and resources. Having it stolen by Garbera must have dealt Mephius a serious blow. And in spite of it finally being returned to Mephius, the emperor had sent over only a small number of troops. Orba couldn’t understand his intentions.
Does he no longer see anything outside his own surroundings? Orba had even thought.
As he rode his horse forward, however, he quickly began thinking about other matters. He set aside whatever the emperor’s aim and schemes might be. Now Orba needed to focus only on the things at hand, to cope with his situation. He organized the information on the west’s history that he had heard from Zaj Haman in his head.
To the west of Mephius, commonly referred to as the Tauran Provinces, was a group of city-states.
The Zerdians dwelling there roamed the high grounds near the Mephian borders to this day, in the same way the nomads of the Ryuujin Faith and its founding ancestors had.
It was a tale from two hundred years ago, and even before then. The denizens of the grasslands that surrounded the desert, perhaps owing to their inherent nomadic dispositions, chose not to place trust in those of the same race and instead constantly engaged in strife.
And the one who set his eyes there was the man called Jasch Bazgan. Being the commander of the Mephian cavalry, he commanded his forces and forcibly tore the Zerdians apart from their territory. Of course, the Zerdians’ counteroffensive was also fierce, and it was then that he received reinforcements from the Mephian homeland and held out against them. From this occasion, he was said to have received one of two of the sovereign’s seals handed down since the olden era of magic kingdoms, the ‘Dragon’s Claw’, from the nomad elders.
Jasch, using this chance, christened the lands of ‘Zer Tauran’ under the name of the Dragon God and began to announce himself ‘king’. Furthermore, he gave the various fortresses located in a region of grasslands to his subordinates, and rebuilt the ancient ruins centred between into a grand temple. Using the Ryuujin Faith, he planned to unify the tribal collective.
When that time came to pass, Jasch delivered a letter to the Mephius emperor declaring them as equals. Enraged by this, the Mephius mainland deployed troops to subjugate Jasch. However they were too late. Not only were they driven back, but Mephius also lost several of its western territories.
However, Jasch Bazgan’s momentum ended with that. A mere four years after he ascended the throne, the night right after the New Years celebration came to a close, he suddenly passed away. There were those who said he suffered the wrath of the Dragon God for branding his own self-righteousness, while others believed that the elders, fearful of Jasch’s momentum, cast a curse on him.
The Bazgan household rushed to set up a successor, but by that time, civil strife had already begun appearing throughout the entirety of the Zer Tauran lands.
Having lost its cohesive force, the Bazgan family secretly fled from the capital, Zer Illias, they had once ruled in splendour. Amongst the two claws that could be said to symbolise Zer Tauran, one was in the Bazgans’ hands, but the other of the pair had been dedicated to the temple and they hadn’t had time to retrieve it.
Soon after, the Bazgan family, with the bare minimal number of troops, arrived east to what is presently the fortress city of Taúlia.
At this point, Mephius tried to regain its territory, but it was by the Bazgan’s luck that Mephius once again engaged in war with a clan from the southeast (now presently Garberan retainers).
At this time, in the capital of Zer Tauran, at the temple in the town of Zer Illias, a priest of the Ryuujin doctrines, chief magician Garda, tried to protect the temple from the hands of a hundred converts in addition to mercenaries and pillagers. He, at that time, performed a number of atrocious incantations that made such a tremendous display of power so fearsome it continues to haunt the Zerdians’ dreams to this day.
But even a magician could not completely eliminate a group made up of hundreds and thousands of cavalrymen, and Zer Illias was eventually engulfed in a sea of flames. However, while steel swords sliced off the heads of the priests and rams destroyed the fortress gates, Garda left a final declaration.
“I will ensure the dragon’s claw alone is handed to no one, should this body perish or turn to ashes and vanish into grassland soils.”
And with that, he vanished. The invaders killed most of the believers, and although they plundered a good number of treasures and sculptures from the temple, the pivotal ‘claw’ was never found.
Zer Tauran in this way changed rulers and continued as a country for the meantime. However, there being civil strife on end, it ultimately collapsed without lasting a third year. The small states governed the scattered towns one by one, raising their armies, tirelessly and repeatedly exchanging or breaking alliances over their disputes. In that time, they received attacks from the northern coastal regions and Mephius once more, but the Zerdians were strangely cooperative against the foreign invaders. They stood side by side with the enemies they should have been brandishing their blades against in hatred for their slain relatives just yesterday, and attacked the invaders who had come from the north and west together, taking on the name of a ‘Crusade to protect the Sovereign’s Seal’.
A long time streamed by coloured in blood and war, and now at present.
The current feudal lord of Taúlia, Ax Bazgan, was forty-one years old. Naturally, as dictated by his name, he belonged to a former house of Mephius, the Bazgan House, once ruling supreme in the west.
Having also crossed swords with the current Mephius emperor, Guhl Mephius, his hostilities with Mephius had not died out even now.
He did mention that Ax got closer to Garbera during Mephius’ ten year war with them.
With his body rocking up and down atop his horse, Orba recalled the minute details of what Zaj had said. They had even proposed to join hands with Garbera to attack Mephius, though that notice was directed to Vileena’s grandfather, Jeorg Owell. Of course, Jeorg had already stepped down from the throne at that time.
And yet purposely choosing Jeorg showed that, even now, he held tremendous influence over Garbera, and that they presumed if they could gain him alone as ally, the king, who did not amount to his father according to rumours, would have to concede.
“The very thought makes me sick.”
Jeorg, having seen through this, flew into a rage. Of course, negotiations broke down.
Just what I’d expect from the man having influenced Princess Vileena the most. That itself is a merit.
Ax, even now, seemed to occasionally slander him on remembrance as ‘that damned gramps’. Orba’s mouth swerved into a smile for a second.
He felt the winds beginning to blow.
However, the leaves and branches showed no visible change. He tilted his head, wondering if he had imagined it. And then, a mere four, five metres away from Orba to his flank, a cavalry soldier, and of course, the horse he was riding on, tumbled over. The horses following along behind it reared to a stop, with several soldiers being thrown off their horses.
Tatan, Tan, sounds of gunshot flew in front of and behind him. Ignoring the ricocheting sand and dust bouncing up from the ground, Orba pulled on his reins full force.
“Go, go, go!”
A slightly elevated peak rose up on his flank. The crowded trees standing there concealed the snipers, Orba saw. Anticipating the dragoons being sent to the front, they aimed at the main body where Gil was.
Orba, beside the soldiers who sprung to life and frantically spurred on their horses, cast a fleeting glance behind, and the Imperial Guards, beginning with Shique, rushed over on their horses while guarding the carriage. The gunshots continued without pause.
Orba turned to ride opposite the fleeing troops. He caught sight of his gunmen riding, half-stooped. He handed down a short command. Then, the carriage passed him.
“Prince!”
Vileena stuck her head out of the carriage and, for a split second, their eyes met.
“We’ll meet again at Apta.”
Immediately after saying this, he met up with Gowen and the Imperial Guard cavalry.
“Gowen, forward!”
“Got it.”
Leading the soldiers behind him who reared their horses into neighs, Orba spurred his horse into a speedy gallop and advanced through a gentle slope at the base of the hill. He pressed his body down against the horse, no guarantee that the continuous gunfire raining down upon him wouldn’t hit him, only advancing with conviction; advancing, and advancing.
Carrying the wounds from the Solon arena on his body, pain shot through him starting with his fractured right collarbone, but he nevertheless paid it no heed.
On the other end of the trees, the clustered figures of his enemies came into sight. A single enemy stood up from his knees and readied his gun—Orba’s eyes stared directly into the muzzle.
“Fire!”
Orba waved his hand as he cried out, and his artillery unit under the cliff fired. With the time he drew the enemy’s attention using himself as decoy, he had the artillery unit camouflage themselves under the trees and assume position. The majority of the fire had only bored holes into the bushes or blown away branches, but blood spurted out of several of the enemies and they collapsed.
“Cut them down!”
Orba straightened his back on top of the horse, and taking hold of the sword with the his left hand, swung it forward. Letting out a battle cry, his soldiers charged up the hill.
However, the enemy was also quick to react.
“Retreat!”
By the time they reached the summit, their backs were already distant. Their group of forty, fifty men smoothly steered their horses down the steep descent where trees packed densely with one another like a maze. They wore no armour. Many of them wore clothes torn to rags. Gowen reined his horse over.
“Looks like the usual bandits. Still, to pick a fight with a country’s army...well, they’ve got quite the nerve. What are you going to do? Chase after them?”
However Orba shook his head. The enemy was familiar with the terrain and most importantly their numbers were unknown. It was better to meet up with the main body of his forces. But something else bothered him—
“What’s wrong?” Casting a sharp glance rather fitting for a man in his years, Gowen stared at Orba’s face. “You’re making the same kind of face as someone who came across their own grave in some unknown place.”
“That’s an interesting way of putting it. It sounds like something Shique would say.”
“Would you rather I phrase it more smartly then? You’re not looking too well.”
“It’s ’cause everything happened so suddenly—We’re setting off!”
Ignoring Gowen’s face that seemed to say, ‘So you’re gonna be like that, are you?’, Orba returned to the road accompanied by his soldiers from whence they came.
That voice...
The piercing cry of the man appearing to be the enemy commander who shouted, “Retreat!” even now rang in his head. It resembled the accent of his home village.
The sudden gunfire had startled the soldiers and their horses, but above all, most disturbed were the dragons.
The Houban towing the imperial carriage let out a cry echoing throughout the forest, and the ones inside the carriage carried along by the dragon thought they would be flattened, far more fearful of this crisis than the attack from the bandits.
The Baians within the cages also stirred, and the carriage seemed about to topple over at any moment, when a single shadow fearlessly approached.
It was Hou Ran. The young girl, riding on horseback, drew near the Houban’s feet which would wholly crush several grown men and, bending forward from the horse, lightly touched its foot. What happened after couldn’t really be seen, for a cloud of dust had flown up, but when the view cleared the next moment, Hou Ran was riding the flattened back of the Houban, and from there she was extending her hand to inside the cage.
“It’s as if I’m watching a circus trainer. How marvellous. If a dragon were to get as attached to a person as that, perhaps we might even be able to keep and raise a small-sized one in the manor.”
Theresia spoke to Vileena excitedly now, when the men, horses and dragons had finally calmed down.
“Calm yourself down, Theresia. More importantly, is the prince—”
“Ah, I can see him now. He’s heading in our direction.”
Vileena pushed aside Theresia’s head and poked her own head out the window this time.
Now that she looked, certainly a group with the prince in the lead was joining up with them. Vileena heaved a sigh of relief. There was never a moment of boredom with the prince around.
“Prince.”
Vileena called out, sticking the upper half of her body outside.
Prince Gil slowed down his horse. It looked like he was calling out to the slaves behind the carriage. As a result of them being pulled along by the Houban, they were a moment away from being crushed by the cages. After that, he trotted to the front of the carriage.
He was saying something to someone with a smile. Hou Ran, riding the back of the Houban, waved her hand in response.
The dotted rays of sunlight gently illuminated Hou Ran’s thin smile. It was an awfully mature, inexplicable smiling face that nevertheless seemed to match the young girl’s age. After exchanging some more words, Prince Gil laughed again.
“Is there something the matter?”
“T-There isn’t.”
Vileena quickly pulled her head back into the carriage. Emotions that she herself could not sort stirred within her chest. Some time after,
“So you got out safely.”
Prince Gil approached the carriage on his horse.
“Thanks to your efforts,” was all Vileena offered as a reply.
The prince seemed to have taken this as the appropriate response for the gallant princess, and he returned to the front of the party.
Afterwards, they covered two hours’ distance without rest.
Together with the opening of the forest, Apta Fortress came into view.
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