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The Tiger in Winter

Page 5

by Hideyuki Kikuchi


  An Account of Days Gone By

  Chapter 3

  It was around noon the next day that trouble broke out.

  There was a tiny village called Machitez about three miles from Duke Van Doren’s castle, and to the east of that village was a sparsely grassed plain that was about a dozen miles square. Once every five years or so a market was set up there, and aside from that it was used as an emergency landing strip. Though it lacked hangars or maintenance facilities, a dilapidated cargo plane from the Capital landed there, depositing a dozen humans and some fairly enormous earth-moving equipment before leaving again.

  They got into a truck they had to assemble themselves from a resilient kind of paper and headed off for the castle home of the duke. And when there was only about a thousand yards left to go, they ran into General Kiniski’s forces. In response to a soldier’s challenge, a man and a woman got out of the truck, the latter a blonde who introduced herself as Valerie Cozuf. Explaining that they were a survey party from the Capital examining Noble ruins and that they had permission from the duke, she then produced a certificate from the Archeology Bureau.

  “It says here you arrive tomorrow,” the soldier said, eyeing them with suspicion.

  “We were supposed to, but the Archeology Bureau screwed up and the Frontier-bound cargo plane we’d reserved opened up a day early, so we made use of it. And they’d moved everything up already, so tomorrow was booked by somebody else,” Valerie replied.

  Once the soldier had relayed this information, General Kiniski appeared before the couple.

  “The agreed-upon plan stipulated tomorrow, so you must adhere to that. Today, you may rest in the village of Machitez. Your return will be according to schedule,” he informed them.

  “Can’t you do anything? This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance,” entreated the man—Professor Izumo Lovick—but the general wouldn’t hear of it, and the group was forced stay a night in Machitez.

  “This is a colossal headache,” the professor grumbled.

  “Still, we got permission to dig from surviving Nobles, and that in itself should be enough,” Dr. Valerie told him soothingly. They were lovers.

  “You’ve got a point there. I hear this Duke Van Doren is the man they called ‘the Tiger’ and feared until a century ago, when he suddenly settled down. One theory has it that a new maidservant reformed him, but a bold, tough Nobleman doesn’t become a sissy just like that. I’m almost tempted to make finding out what happened another goal of this survey.”

  “The next time you call anyone a sissy, I’m leaving you,” Valerie said, the smile never leaving her face. “But the man we ran into earlier, the one they called the General—he’s going to be a tough one to deal with, isn’t he?” Her lovely brow crinkled.

  Though they were lovers, Valerie addressed the professor with a certain deference, as she was only twenty-four while he was forty-six.

  “Guys like him really can’t be bribed, but I suppose we could try pumping the soldiers for info and see where his soft spot is—”

  “Unfortunately, he’s an android,” said a youthful voice from behind them, causing the pair to turn and look.

  They were in the professor’s room.

  “Pardon my intrusion. I’ve been watching your movements ever since you arrived in Machitez,” said a man with something daring about his smile, and he touched a finger to the cloth of his turban. “I am Glantan. I lead a certain religious group,” he continued with a bow.

  “And what might you want with us?” Valerie asked. Both she and the professor wore guarded looks. “We’re tired after a long journey from the Capital. If you’ve got something to discuss with us, could we trouble you to come back again after the sun goes down?”

  “I suppose that really would be for the best, wouldn’t it? Only, neither you folks nor we have much time. I’ll put this frankly. I’d like you to add some of my compatriots to the dig you’re starting in the ruins tomorrow.”

  The two of them looked at each other, then the professor rose from his chair and said, “Pardon me, but I’m supposed to do this for people from some religious group I know nothing about? Doesn’t that seem a tad presumptuous, to say nothing of being most irregular?”

  “I respectfully ask that you accommodate us,” Glantan insisted.

  Even after it became clear that the reason his people wanted to join the survey was because they wished to obtain papers and a statue of the founder of their religious movement that were somewhere in the ruins, the couple didn’t nod in understanding. While the man seemed personable enough, he didn’t quite look like an upstanding human being.

  Twice his request had been flatly rejected, but as Glantan asked a third time, he took a leather pouch from his hip and dumped its contents on the floor. When the other two looked down at it, it cast a golden light on their faces. They were all thousand-dala coins. One was enough to buy a house, two would get a stagecoach, and three were enough to purchase an aircraft.

  “There are five hundred of them. I’d be honored if they could aid your excavation in some small way.”

  “You seem keenly aware of our financial situation. The Capital doesn’t take an active interest in archeological pursuits. They say the Nobility’s past can’t be unearthed without dredging up memories of the dark days when we were under their control. To be honest, I’d take a little kid’s pocket change to help fund this.”

  “In that case—” Glantan looked at the professor, his eyes agleam.

  “I have to ask you to take your money and go. Every last coin, if you please,” the professor told him flatly.

  Apparently Glantan hadn’t expected this kind of opposition.

  “Now, just a minute, Izumo—I mean, Professor Lovick. Don’t you think we should give his offer some consideration?”

  “Doctor Valerie, while I realize you’re more practical than anyone, this survey isn’t the end of anything. For we were able to get permission from the Nobility. Should it prove successful, or really, even if it’s not terribly fruitful, so long as it concludes without incident, the next survey will be markedly easier. I can’t turn a blind eye to the slightest misstep when it could sour Duke Van Doren’s mood.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll remind you that a limit has been set on the number of personnel allowed. Each and every one of them is eager to see the history of the Nobility firsthand, and it’s that enthusiasm alone that’s brought our colleagues this far. You understand that for every person we added, we’d have to take someone else off. Would you like to be one of them?”

  Valerie could only nod.

  “And that’s the way it stands, Mr. Glantan. Though I’m sorely tempted by your offer, I’m afraid I cannot take you up on it.”

  “That’s truly unfortunate,” the outsider said, a faint smile rising on his lips.

  At that point, someone knocked at the door. Before Valerie could get up, the door opened. And before she had a chance to see that he, too, had a cloth wrapped around his head, Glantan was leaping for the window.

  The crescent-shaped throwing knife the man had raised in his right hand had a bluish gleam. Limning a beautiful arc, it sank into the throat of the newest visitor, who fell to the floor without a struggle.

  The windowpane shattered. As Glantan sailed through the air, a black sphere followed after him. His body twisted, and the stunned pair of scientists watched dumbfounded as he was crushed down to nothing in the blink of an eye.

  “My apologies. I came as soon as a lookout told me he was in here, and luckily it seems I was in time.”

  “Who was he? And who are you?” Valerie asked, not yet able to organize her thoughts.

  “He was Glantan Doskis. He’s a member of the bandits known as the Pitch Black Gang. As for me—”

  The two scientists focused their eyes on his rough face and body.

  “—I am Gilshark. I’m a member of the rebel army. And I’ve come here with a request for the two of you.”

  “A request?”

&n
bsp; The two of them looked at each other.

  Gilshark said, “I’d like you to let a member of the rebel army join your team.”

  The recent visitors from outside, D included, couldn’t help but cause a storm of unrest in the castle ruled by the slumbering Tiger.

  “I have nothing to say regarding the survey team. However, the bandits have closed to a day or two’s travel from here, and I can’t stand to sit back and do nothing,” said General Kiniski. “They have invaded this sacred domain effortlessly, assaulting the very residents we should be protecting and taking their valuables, then putting their villages to the torch before they go. I simply cannot stand idly by while impudent blackguards like these are allowed to close on us.”

  To this, the Tiger responded, “In truth, this is the first time in ten millennia I’ve ever heard you speak with concern for the residents of this domain. I will not stop you. Have I even once allowed any trespass into my domain to go unpunished? General, I know full well that your anger isn’t directed at the bandits. However, you are mistaken. I believe I’ve entrusted you with sweeping away any and all invaders.”

  The general ran his eyes over the portraits and assorted weapons that hung on the walls.

  “I need not tell you to look at these. But they all hang here as a testimony to the pride, the glory, and the bravery of the one we call the Tiger. My soldiers and I take great pride in the days when we rode into battle with you to crush our enemies. The picture on the east wall is ‘Annihilation at the Veniston River.’ You smashed the dam and drowned an enemy force of ten thousand strong with a mere three hundred soldiers under you—time and again they assailed us, and just when we were ready to meet our end, you struck the enemy from behind and took them unaware, and after we caught them in our pincer movement, we managed to slay them all. Never have I seen such remarkable fighting. And you with but a hundred men in your command.”

  His strong face turned.

  “The painting on the north wall is you crossing the skies of Venus. At the time, we were locked in battle with the OSB, the outer space beings. They built outposts on one planet after another in our solar system, then launched an attack on Earth. Believing that merely fighting them off was a losing strategy, you proposed that we strike at them out among the stars. However, each and every ship we launched was shot down, and you were left with only five hundred survivors to stage an attack. Two armored vehicles are depicted—the one to the rear was yours, and with few officers and enlisted men to support you, you struck at the enemy space fortress, while the other was the cherished tank of Greylancer, the ‘Noble among Nobles’ who battled in space all alone. Catching the OSB off guard, your sudden attack was a major success, and following it all of the enemy’s advanced outposts were destroyed in what was a turning point in the war.”

  The man turned in another direction.

  “Finally, the picture on the west wall—which remains down, even now. Though I realize this may draw your ire, it was a scene of serfs being executed some twenty-five hundred years ago.”

  “Kiniski,” the duke called out to him, his tone dark and severe, and on hearing it the general’s expression grew even more doleful.

  “What need you fear? What is there to regret? Is it not the duty of the liege to exterminate traitors? The fact that you personally swung the axe that chopped the heads from the traitors, that lopped off their arms and legs, that is what makes you the Tiger King. On that night when you executed a thousand miserable humans, I looked to you as I would to a god,” the general said, his eyes gleaming.

  As soon as he shut his mouth, that glow swiftly faded, and he walked toward the north wall. It was decorated with spears, javelins, hatchets, and laser cannons, but he grabbed hold of a long axe and pulled it down.

  “In keeping with your instructions, I shall use this to execute the bandit scum.”

  “Do as you like.”

  “Then we shall set off for the lake region to the east posthaste. You may relax here knowing all is well, my liege. I expect to be back two days hence.”

  After the caped figure had disappeared through the doorway to the sound of sharp footfalls, the duke heaved a sigh and took a seat in an armchair.

  He took a glass from the small table beside it. The bowl of it was made of crystal, while the stem was fashioned from gold. Filling it almost to the brim with alcohol, he was just about to drain the glass when a servant came in and informed him that the survey group was paying a visit.

  “There’s no need to see me. I believe I’ve already granted them permission to conduct their survey.”

  “They wish to discuss measures to prevent any interference with their work.”

  “There shall be no such interference. Not after receiving my permission.”

  “I was given another message in the event you should say that.”

  Flames of rage and scorn billowed from the duke’s eyes. The silence’s voice seemed to say, Damned humans.

  The servant continued, “They said they wished to discuss the matter of Master Sebastian. What is your will?”

  Suddenly, the servant became the object of his rage. The duke raised his right hand and made a horizontal sweep with it. Though nothing could be seen in the space between the servant and the Nobleman, the servant’s head was cleanly taken off, with waves of pale blue electromagnetism snaking from either opening.

  “See them in,” the duke commanded.

  “Understood,” the servant’s head replied, and its body walked over and picked it up, leaving with it under one arm.

  II

  The duke wondered how pale his face was now. He would have no choice but to ask someone else to tell him. For the Nobility—as vampires—cast no reflection in mirrors or water.

  He looked at the walls. East, north, west. Each was out of balance. The duke’s eyes came to rest on the west one. Turning toward the wall, which was adorned with paintings and matchlock rifles, he murmured, “Sebastian . . . Why did you choose now to come back?”

  His visitor was an archeologist who introduced herself as Valerie Cozuf. In the reception hall, the young woman told him of her unexpected encounter with General Kiniski, mentioned the possibility of further interference, and requested that the duke give orders that would put a stop to that.

  “You may rest easy. If it had been Kiniski’s intent, you’d all have been dead before you ever glimpsed his face.”

  The woman said that was a relief, putting her hand over her heart.

  The duke waited.

  Quickly noticing as much, the woman said, “The one I mentioned was your third son, wasn’t he?”

  The duke didn’t answer at first, but after a few seconds had passed he took a golden bell from the little table and shook it to summon a servant.

  “Send for D. If he won’t come, tell him I’ll leave the castle.”

  The instant the young man in black entered the room, the woman—Valerie—let out a low groan and shut her eyes.

  Explaining her position, the duke said that he wanted the Hunter to hear his story along with her. “If you won’t, I’ll leave here. Would you let Sirene’s plans be spoiled like that?”

  “I’ll finish the job if I have to follow you to the ends of the earth,” D said, and more than the duke, it was Valerie, her eyes still closed, who felt ice running down her spine. However, D made no attempt to leave, but leaned back against the wall behind the duke. If he hadn’t wanted to come, no power on earth could’ve brought the young man there in the first place.

  “This woman says she has information pertaining to my third son. His name is Sebastian. Fifty years ago he left home, and I’ve not seen him since.”

  Valerie felt the gazes of the two of them prickling her from head to toe.

  “Two years ago,” she began, “I was surveying some ruins in the eastern Frontier sectors from about three thousand years ago. At that time, I discovered what appeared to be the remnants of a bandit hideout within the ruins.”

  Based on the state of preser
vation, the hideout was rather old—seemingly from thirty or forty years earlier—and it undoubtedly belonged to the Evil Slayers, who had assaulted scattered Frontier communities and perpetrated brutal crimes from those days down to the present.

  “As you are probably well aware, there were rumors that this bandit gang was led by a Noble. A number of the prominent members took direct hits from the mortars and missiles the army used and were blown to pieces, only to regenerate back to perfect health in a matter of seconds. And because they were in the habit of identifying themselves as they perpetrated their slaughters, their names became known across a portion of the Frontier. Those names could be found etched into the stone walls of their hideout.”

  And there—

  “The name Sebastian Van Doren was among them.”

  “And you mean to say those are the same bandits that will be attacking us two days hence?”

  “After that, the Evil Slayers disbanded, splitting into a number of smaller gangs. The Pitch Black Gang that’s currently scheming to invade this region is said to have the largest concentration of core members from the Evil Slayers.”

  “Hmm. Is Sebastian among them?” the duke asked, taking another drink.

  The next words seemed to come from terribly far away. “If Sebastian was the leader of the Evil Slayers, then he’s already gone.”

  The Nobleman’s focus shifted to D.

  “I slayed them. Quite a while ago, in the eastern Frontier sectors.”

  Valerie gasped, and the duke set his glass down on the little table. As soon as the bottom of it touched the table, there were a number of little sounds.

  “You destroyed him?”

  Valerie brought her fist up to her forehead, trying very hard not to look over at the duke. “Your grace, I will have you know this man has no connection whatsoever with our group. I sincerely hope that this won’t change your mind about our survey.”

  “I believe I promised you’d be able to do as you like. And that promise being made, no one is about to break it. Not even I myself.”

 

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