by Y. R. Shin
Jacalrin understood what he meant and shook his head. “No. I was fooling around a little, but I didn’t particularly intend on losing. That woman… I should have known when she walked here from Plain Boald ’til her feet got destroyed.”
“I talked with the soldier. It seems like there is nothing wrong in terms of her identity.”
“I humbly conjecture that you’re not going to find anything even if you try. Whether she’s actually trying to fool us or not. Oh, but the mission should be fine as it is, right? I don’t think it’ll go wrong, but still.” Jacalrin left his sentence unfinished. Paseid’s black eyes sunk low with concern.
Soldiers could lightheartedly gossip, gawking at the woman, but things were different for knights who were aware of the situation. From her agility to her fearless attitude, she was almost like an assassin bred from birth.
She was a concerning factor, especially before the commencement of a large-scale mission that needed to be carried out in secret, in case she was in fact a disguised spy infiltrating their army. Banishing her by force wasn’t a viable option, either, for Paseid did not know what she could have overheard at the camp already.
Meanwhile, the Morganaan reinforcement was advancing toward the enemy’s camp. He couldn’t risk losing the extraordinary opportunity to utilize their greater numbers because of an uncertain doubt.
“We’ll take her,” he said. “Sir Haldroff has volunteered to keep an eye on her.”
“Wasn’t Sir Haldroff supposed to stay at the main camp to deceive the enemy?”
“We are repositioning. I have already sent a messenger for Sir Carvein.”
“You know, you could just leave it to me.”
Paseid scoffed and furrowed his brows. “Jacalrin, do you consider yourself fit for such a task?”
Jacalrin had just been caught looking through Paseid’s things after barging in without notice, so he shrugged instead of protesting. He agreed that Evinbur was more accurate than him when it came to judging character too. Jacalrin had a certain conviction in his intuitions, but he didn’t disregard the ample experience of an old man.
Speaking of which, Evinbur’s honest voice resounded from outside, knocking on their ears. “Sir Calandok, are you at leisure, sir?”
“Please come in.”
Evinbur was one of the few people Paseid respected and admired. Though there was a rumor that he was at war due to a dishonorable event within House Haldroff, Paseid knew very well how much he actually cared about his soldiers, and how devoted he was to them.
Evinbur pushed the drape aside and stepped in, only to find Jacalrin slouching in his chair. He let out a low chuckle.
“You already have a visitor, I see, sir. Nice to see you, little Sir Chesa. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“I’m just here for a brief moment.”
“Please take a seat,” said Paseid. “We were just chatting.”
At Paseid’s nod, Evinbur planted himself next to Jacalrin. His deep, aged eyes landed on the letter with the fine seal for a moment, then left.
“Well, I am going to talk about this anyway at tomorrow night’s council meeting, but I think you should know beforehand,” said Evinbur. “The scouts returned just now. There is still nothing alarming in the lowlands of Itaka, but there seems to be some movement in Olzore.”
Jacalrin, who had been resting his sullen face on his hand, let out a small, breathy laugh. Paseid eyed Jacalrin reproachfully and replied, “Movement?”
“I’m sure there’s someone with a brain over there too, so they probably have guessed that we will move before the Morganaan reinforcements arrive.”
“But the northern gate of Olzore very rarely opens anyway, no?” Jacalrin interrupted.
“There’s nothing particularly worrying about their offense, since Olzore is a fort specifically designed for defense, but I’ve told Sir Deusak to reinforce our guards just in case. It seems like we can move on the route through the valley as we had planned… Except, if they are eyeing Rarkian land, we would have to march only at night once we are near the fort, so it may take a bit longer than we predicted.”
“I have considered Olzore realizing our plan as one of the variables, so no need to worry,” said Paseid.
Evinbur gave a satisfied smile at the instant, unhesitant answer, almost like that of a proud father looking at his commendable son.
“Then again, even if we divide the army in three, there will be more than twenty thousand men waiting at the main camp. There’s nothing to be afraid of, even if those bums who live coiled in their nest take out their swords and spears.”
Olzore, the secretive fort on top of the valley, had a long history as the symbol of Morgana’s defense line.
The narrow hills and steep valley, which were optimal for defense, made it difficult for a large army to approach, but it also limited the size of the army Morgana could dispatch. But Olzore was also the historical counterevidence of the best defense being a good offense. The best offense Olzore could conduct was inviolable defense, and enemies crumbled before their impregnable fort.
Even the last queen of Rarkalia, the notorious fanatic of war, had met her downfall before Olzore.
Jacalrin rested his chin on his hand and complained irritably, “I’ve never seen Fort Olzore, but when I do this time, I’ll at the very least spit on it.”
“They wouldn’t care in the least bit.”
“Just thinking about the absurd remark Belrevirehein II dared to make to His Majesty makes my blood boil. How dare those pompous scumbags make such base provocations?”
Displeased at this violent reminder, Evinbur clamped his mouth shut as well.
The story of the letter Belrevirehein II, the emperor of Morgana, had sent to Rarke was well known.
Rarke had been forced to engage in a kind of tributary trade with Morgana ever since the first establishment of the Brionake Dynasty, due to the unfair treaty signed at that time. Then, two years ago, Morgana had unjustly ordered Rarke to double the amount of tribute. Though it was a tributary trade, Rarke was technically not a subject of Morgana’s.
King Terendoke of Rarke had sent an enraged refusal, and the emperor of Morgana had declared that he would go to war against Rarke, to show that the empire would not allow resistance from the north. Then he sent a letter insinuating that if they wished to set foot on Morganaan land, they should bow down to Olzore.
Olzore.
That was a weak spot for a Rarkian that nobody should prick. The impact of the letter was quite something, to the extent that even the conservative nobles of Rarke, who weren’t so keen on the idea of as war until then, had started an uproar.
Two hundred years ago, Rarke had signed an unfair treaty with Morgana because of the defeat at Fort Olzore. With the submission of Rarke, a rising country equipped with great military power capable of devouring its neighboring countries, Morgana had gained the omnipotent throne of an emperor. In addition to that, the finest knight of Rarke, Peijak Dollehan, who was once loyal to Rarke, had kneeled before the steely gate of Fort Olzore, drunk with Rarkian blood, and betrayed his home country.
Morgana had dug up that shameful history related to Olzore and crushed the pride of Rarke.
Evinbur concluded his ire and changed the subject to break the dishonorable silence. “On a different note, would she be okay with her injuries? Would it not be better to leave her here?”
“It’s better to keep her where we can watch her closely,” said Paseid.
“So, you have your doubts about her too, Commander?”
“I’m not just sitting back.”
“I was visiting her just now, and according to the doctor, it will take a considerable amount of time for the wounds to heal.”
Remembering the evaluation, Evinbur could not help but feel stupefied. He could not understand how Reuyen could perform like that, even if the horse was acting as her legs.
“Oh, by the way, where is she right now?” Jacalrin asked out of the blue.
“In her tent. Where else?”
“Which way?”
“Do you want to visit her? Fourth from the east. But there’ll be no use if you go now.”
Jacalrin blinked.
Evinbur shrugged and explained, “She’s out cold. Boy, does she sleep soundly in the middle of this cacophony. I went there to have a little chat and ended up watching her sleep for a long time instead.”
“Can’t you just wake her up?”
“She’s still a lady.”
“What lady? What kind of a woman volunteers to be on a battlefield?” He guessed she could if she were extremely fatigued, but where was her sense of danger, sleeping like a sloth in the middle of a camp at the front, where anything could happen at any moment? Jacalrin chuckled at her unchanging preposterousness and sprang up. “Excuse me, sirs.”
As Jacalrin rushed out, Evinbur followed him with his eyes and murmured, “It must be hard for old Sir Chesa, with his son still acting like that at his age,” and turned to the obviously exhausted Paseid. “By the by, it’s quite a concern for us subordinates that our commander-in-chief isn’t able to rest properly these days.”
“I’m fine.”
“I have told the men to light some incense to ease your mind and body.”
“I ordered them away. It’s not that big a problem for you to be so concerned, Sir Haldroff. I only have bad dreams from time to time.”
Evinbur’s eyes deepened with affection. Paseid was an extremely trustworthy man, who stayed on the battlefield for a long time, but he was not someone who enjoyed war. He had once asked Paseid, Why do you not leave the battlefield so?
To which Paseid answered, A battlefield is where there is a clear black and white, and I can execute my mission.
“Well, it’s a relief to hear that you are all right, but…” Evinbur scratched his chin, stumbled upon the letter lying on one side of the table, and opened his mouth nonchalantly. “I saw that a rider came from the capital’s palace.”
“Not for official business.”
“It seemed like it. Even if it is just Miss Laperovahan biding her time for Duke Brionake’s victorious return, it would be good to end this war soon. Those Morganaan scoundrels are despicable, but the living must live.”
Paseid faintly smiled and nodded. “We should indeed, for dear Sir Haldroff’s health.”
“Wo-hoa, thank you for your consideration, sir, but this old man is still as healthy as a horse,” Evinbur smoothly replied. Then he lazily got to his feet. “We should be ready for departure in at least six days, once we finish the last preparations after returning. Please excuse me, then.”
“Goodnight, sir.”
Evinbur left with the same spirited steps he’d entered with.
Sitting in the silence following Evinbur’s exit, Paseid’s eyes slid onto the letter with the fine seal. He took it gently and opened it.
My Lord Duke Paseid Calandok Brionake,
How do you do?
Thanks to your industrious work in the place of danger, the people of the capital and I are more peaceful than we could ever hope to be, Your Grace. Thus, I am currently sitting by Lake Ryuga, looking at the boats. I am not sure if I can say this to you, Your Grace, but I am untroubled and have faith that you are protecting the wind, the waves, and the laughs of those enjoying the sun.
I have gratefully put the bouquet of blue flowers from your mansion in a vase. My heart beats with gratitude at their ineffable beauty, and so, I have picked up my pen. I fear you may consider me a woman without patience or virtue for writing to you so first, or that I may be taking your invaluable time in your busy days, but please forgive this silly girl wishing for a word from you.
I was planning on asking little Sir Chesa to deliver this letter upon hearing the news that he was going to war as well, but on second thought, I worried that he might steal a look at my bashful honesty, considering his character, so…I found a knight from the capital’s palace heading south and asked a favor.
Also, I have earnestly reminded little Sir Chesa not to trouble you during this war, but I wonder if he is doing so. Old Sir Chesa has asked me to relay to you to please scold little Sir Chesa if he does not listen to you. He has also asked me to bid you to please be strict with him, as Jacalrin must learn to behave a little.
Your Grace, you will return to the capital once this war is over. I am wholeheartedly wishing for your safe return.
Sincerely,
Elhien Devi Laperovahan.
Ingraining the name Laperovahan in his eyes, he quietly put down the letter.
The letter that must have ridden all the way from the capital still held the muted fragrance of hydrangea.
Chapter Fourteen
Jacalrin kept what Evinbur said in mind and walked to the fourth tent from the east with a spring in his step. Evinbur had told him so, but of course.
“Hey.” Jacalrin crossed his arms and looked down at the blanket on the bed with a giant bulge in the middle.
“Yo, tomboy,” he called louder, but there was still no response. He slowly walked over, looking like a turtle with a sullen face, and snuck a look at the woman’s face.
Her face showed through the messy red hair half-covered by the blanket. She was as pale and delicate as a branch of a poplar tree. She was quite an ordinary woman, save for her somewhat intense expression.
Those who had trained a great deal often had rough skin or skin that retained an evidence of exposure to sunlight, but this woman, while she did look healthy, was so pale that she looked like she had nothing to do with weapons or horseback riding. He could understand why Denjak had underestimated her, ultimately leading to quite a shameful result.
Jacalrin studied her for a while, then rubbed his chin, giving a nasal hmm. His light-green eyes wandered the tent and landed on the crumbly food she clearly hadn’t even touched, and the vegetable soup that was now cold.
“Yo, wake up!”
Jacalrin gave up on waiting until Reuyen woke up on her own and carelessly kicked the leg of the bed with the tip of his hard leather army boot. Seeing that there still was no response, he reached his hand out to just drag the blanket off her. When his inconsiderate hands uncovered her halfway, the woman’s pale eyelids opened without a warning. Her brown eyes speckled with red were still half asleep and unfocused when they met Jacalrin’s mischievous green eyes.
“Finally…” Just as Jacalrin was about to say something, Reuyen’s hand shot up and grabbed his arm. It happened in a flash, before he could even dodge it.
Jacalrin’s eyes grew as cold as ice.
Reuyen’s slumberous voice slowly let out a sound. “Han…”
Standing awkwardly, Jacalrin snapped out of her hand. She let go of him easier than he’d expected. “What?”
“Oh…”
Reuyen was gazing at Jacalrin with a half-moon face. Looking into her dry eyes, Jacalrin suddenly realized that her focus was somehow off.
Her murky eyes moved from his face to his neck, then to his hands. But her eyes didn’t look sleepy; though they were focused on him and were looking at him, they seemed distant, like they were seeing something else.
But, not long after, the wandering eyes started to recover their twinkle again, and soon enough, Reuyen sprang up into an upright position and hurriedly patted her body and hair.
Does she think I did something to her?
He wasn’t particularly acting gentleman-like, but he didn’t recall doing anything to be treated like a ne’er-do-well, so Jacalrin glared at Reuyen, frowning. “I was just trying to wake you.”
Reuyen stopped and tilted her head to look at her legs hidden under the blanket, then sighed like she was breathing out a misty fog. She didn’t seem quite right. Once he took the time to scrutinize her, she looked exactly like someone who was still confused from a nightmare, with her face all sweaty, her eyes nervously glancing around.
“Excuse me, sir.” She came back to reality and apologized with a still gravelly voice. Jacalrin accepted her a
pology, for he thought he hadn’t done anything particularly commendable as a gentleman when he touched a sleeping patient without her consent.
“I guess you had a bad enough dream to make you look like you just saw a ghost. I was amazed how well you slept in the middle of a battlefield, but I see that’s not exactly the case.”
At Jacalrin’s comment, Reuyen noticed the thick darkness outside her tent for the first time. Her lips scrunched up a little. She must have been asleep for a fairly long time.
“I’m all right, sir. I recall the doctor saying that the prescribed herbs and medicine have a tranquilizing effect, sir. I think it’s because of that, sir.”
“Why are you trying so hard to seem fine? Just let it be. You’re not the only one having nightmares here, you know.”
“It wasn’t a nightmare, but a—” Reuyen suddenly stopped when she realized that Jacalrin’s clear, light-green eyes were looking down at her with pity. She unconsciously brushed her face at the cold air caressing her cheeks and moaned at the feeling of her hair wet with sweat.
She remembered something she had forgotten the moment she was stunned by waking up only to look into those eyes.
When was it? It was when she first encountered the grotesque truth about a battlefield, at the age of twenty-six. A memory as Swan, not Reuyen.
Within two months, the queen who had left with thirty thousand men accomplished the deed of eradicating from history a small kingdom adjacent to Rarke’s western border.
Revolting fetor drifted from the mountain of bodies revealed through the broken walls across the field ablaze in red. When one tried to draw water from a well in the kingdom’s capital city, the bucket filled with water contaminated with blood.
She looked over the enemy soldiers committing suicide before her eyes and the foolish people betraying their own country to beg for their lives. The cries and screams of those running to her feet were as meaningless to her as the passing wind. “Long live King Dorek!” With the last breath of the enemy knight, dying as he praised his king, the kingdom fell.