Death’s Daughter and the Ebony Blade: Volume 5, page 19
Aside from Oscar, to whom Rosenmarie had already told her plan, the others, Crimson and Helios Knights both, all gaped at her. Rosenmarie was enjoying the spectacle when Mill Heineman of the Crimson Knights voiced his objection.
“I realize my saying this to you, Lady Rosenmarie, is like trying to tell a fish how to swim, but I feel I must point out that we Crimson Knights make best use of our potential out on the battlefield.”
“You’re right. The Crimson Knights aren’t made for siege warfare.”
“Then—”
“But it was out on the battlefield that the Crimson Knights lost to the Seventh Legion,” she pointed out. “Now, don’t take that the wrong way. It’s not your fault we lost. That was entirely my own doing.”
“In other words, this time you mean to be more careful?” Zacharias said, unconvinced. Rosenmarie snorted.
“It’s not like me, is what you want to say.”
“Just so, my lady. I would understand it coming from Marshal Gladden, but...” At this mention of Gladden’s name, a shadow fell over the faces of all assembled, but Rosenmarie continued without mentioning it.
“It seems,” she said, “that the Helios Knights have been laboring under a false impression of my character.” While officers from the Helios Knights all looked confused, the Crimson Knights shared a grim smile. “I don’t deny that I prefer to fight on the battlefield. I mean, I do enjoy it.” She gave a playful shrug, drawing a guffaw from the Crimson Knights. The Helios Knights, meanwhile, managed only strained smiles. Rosenmarie then turned serious. “The only thing that matters is that we crush the Royal Army here. I will use whatever I have at my disposal to make sure that happens, and this time, I have Kier Fortress. It’s as simple as that.”
“So this is a critical moment for the imperial army as well.”
“That’s right,” she said. She didn’t like to admit it, but the Royal Army had momentum, and just as a flame once lit would not be easily extinguished, that invisible force would not soon fade. If she was going to break it, she couldn’t be concerned with style. In addition, while she had no intention of getting sentimental, she was also thinking of Gladden, who had gone on to the Land of the Dead without the opportunity for a rematch. Their differences in opinion had led them to butt heads on more than a few occasions, but Rosenmarie still had a kind of respect for the man who had led their army as head of the Three Generals. Any way to know what he had thought was now lost to her forever.
“Lady Rosenmarie, if we’re prioritizing caution, could we call on the Azure Knights to add their forces to ours?” Mill proposed, but Rosenmarie shot him down.
“I’m afraid Felix isn’t going to set one foot outside the capital.” Rosenmarie wasn’t without a degree of irritation toward Felix and his continued refusal to mobilize the Azure Knights, but the order came from Emperor Ramza himself, and she couldn’t imagine Ramza the Good would hold the Azure Knights back in the capital without reason. As far as she knew, he was nothing less than a great emperor.
“I thought it was too much to hope for...”
“Don’t be so downhearted. The Crimson and Helios Knights together will be more than sufficient. Oscar?”
“My lady,” he said. “I will go through the outline of our plan.”
Two hours later, after each of the officers had received detailed instructions on their roles from Oscar, the council came to a close. Rosenmarie clicked her fingers and a servant emerged, bearing glasses half-full of wine, which they then distributed among the officers.
When Rosenmarie saw that everyone had a glass, she said, “I don’t exaggerate when I say that in this battle, we will decide the fate of the empire. I expect you all to fight to your last breath.”
“To the glory of the Asvelt Empire!”
“To our undying loyalty to Ramza the Magnificent!” The officers all swallowed the contents of their glasses in a single gulp. Then, brimming with zeal, they filed out of the room. As Oscar made to follow them, Rosenmarie called out to him.
“When this is over, lay some lycilia flowers on Gladden’s grave. He’s supposed to have liked them, though I’d never have believed it.”
Oscar turned back abruptly. “Lycilia symbolize the bonds of family. How very like you, my lady.” He saluted, then quietly left the room.
I shouldn’t have said it after all, Rosenmarie thought. She herself still hadn’t had the chance to lay flowers at the graves of either Osvannes or Guyel. Telling herself it would all wait until victory was hers, she left the war room alone.
Early in the morning, two days later, the Royal Army emerged out of a fog that hung about Kier Fortress.
Fernest’s First Allied Legion fielded ninety-eight thousand five hundred soldiers. The soldiers of the Asvelt Empire defending Kier Fortress numbered ninety-eight thousand eight hundred.
The battle began with a whisper, or so it would be written in The History of Duvedirica.
III
The troops of the First Allied Legion fanned out before Kier Fortress. Three towering walls encircled the fortress, walls from which many banners bearing the empire’s crossed swords flew. Paul, who had come back when they negotiated a hostage exchange, found that he felt rather nostalgic looking upon it now, rather than being infuriated. He allowed himself a wry smile.
I suppose I had too much fun traveling with Lieutenant General Olivia back then, he thought, picturing her beaming at everyone with that carefree smile of hers. Beside him, Otto finished giving instructions to a subordinate before turning to Paul with suspicion in his eyes.
“Don’t mind me.” Paul went on quickly. “How’s the front line looking?”
“They are using the catapults to carry out a long-range assault, as planned. The imperial army has responded with their own catapults and heavy crossbows. They have not made any unusual moves.”
Predicting a siege from the start, the First Allied Legion had come prepared with a large arsenal of siege weaponry, catapults chief among them. The catapults currently in action were the result of the Royal Army’s engineers analyzing and improving upon the cutting-edge models the Independent Cavalry Regiment had seized from the Crimson Knights. Otto had told Paul that while they had not, in the end, been able to improve the weapons’ firepower, by making them still more compact, ease of operation had increased dramatically.
“Then tell the soldiers on the front line they need not hold back. They are to reduce the walls of Kier Fortress to rubble, you hear?”
“Are you sure, my lord?”
“The lord marshal approves.”
Reassurance could at times lead people into indolence. The Royal Army had grown complacent behind the walls of the “impenetrable fortress.” Paul could not deny that. He therefore saw this as a golden opportunity to tear the place down to its foundations, thereby shattering the illusion and opening the eyes of his soldiers.
Otto immediately expressed his understanding, then sent off the runners.
“There could be nothing better for us than for them to stay holed up in there.”
“From what I have heard, Major General Neinhardt has a number of plans for that.”
“Major General Neinhardt, eh?” Paul said thoughtfully. “I don’t know him well, seeing as this will be my first time fighting alongside him, but if you ask Lambert, he’s quite the maverick.”
“I doubt he would have risen to become chief of staff for the First Legion under the Invincible General were he not.”
“You’re not wrong there. Though so far as I’m concerned, our chief-of-staff here in the Seventh Legion is no slouch either.” He glanced sidelong at Otto, who gave a slight shrug.
“Please, my lord. I have nothing that can compare to Major General Neinhardt’s sharp wits and foresight.”
“Modesty, eh?”
“I speak nothing but the truth,” Otto said blandly.
Paul was no stranger to the futility of flattering the man. Still, with his ability to coolly appraise a battle while on the battlefield, undeterred by emotion, Paul saw Otto as one of a kind and entirely irreplaceable.
“All right, I’ll give you this one,” Paul said. “Now, about the right flank...”
Paul turned his spyglass onto the right flank, which was under Osmund’s command. The man wouldn’t be glory-mad any longer, but he was a touch too far ahead.
“Fear not, my lord. I have already sent runners to instruct him to fall back.”
“Of course you have,” Paul said, nodding with satisfaction at Otto’s quick-witted leadership.
The battle proceeded just as the First Allied Legion wanted it to, looking more and more like it would turn into a long siege.
IV
The Imperial Army, Fort Astora
When Major General Fermat Lancelot, to whom had been assigned command of Fort Astora, received word of the Royal Army’s incoming assault, their vanguard was already on his doorstep.
“Why didn’t we notice that the Royal Army was this close?!” Fermat threw the glass he held in his hand at his aide, Colonel Hassel Trident, who stood in front of him. A red stain spread over the man’s uniform, and there was the sound of breaking glass as fragments sprayed across the floor. Hassel, who had devoted himself in every aspect of his life to soldiering, didn’t so much as flinch.
“It appears that they used the night as a cloak to stage their incursion.”
“Do you think I’ll accept that excuse?! Why do you think we have guards? They’re not birds to be kept away with scarecrows!”
“I never once thought to use scarecrows, ser.”
“Then how is it that you allowed them to get this close?!”
“Our enemy was simply that clever, ser,” Hassel replied blandly, not looking at all abashed. Fermat was seized by a sensation like all the blood flowing through his body had suddenly reversed its course. But questioning Hassel further wouldn’t change the reality of the situation. Fermat forced his anger down into the pit of his stomach.
“Well, anyway,” he said. “Send messengers with all haste to Fort Belganna and Fort Rochfell. And to the capital too.”
“Yes, ser.”
“And how many soldiers is the Royal Army attacking us with, anyway?”
“We’re still waiting on detailed reports...” Hassel said slowly. “But from what the guards on watch said, I expect we will end up with a figure over sixty thousand.”
“S-Sixty thousand...?!” Fermat repeated, reeling. The number far exceeded anything he had imagined. The Crimson Knights’ departure for Kier Fortress had left Fort Astora now with a defensive garrison of only three thousand. It would not even be a fight.
Fermat noticed Hassel looking like he wanted to say something more. “Is there anything else?” he asked.
“We have sighted a great many soldiers in leaf-green armor among the enemy forces. They are flying different banners from the Royal Army’s.”
Fermat’s mind immediately went to the soldiers in leaf-green armor who had struck such a powerful blow against the Crimson Knights at Fort Astora the previous year—the Winged Crusaders of the Holy Land of Mekia.
“You don’t mean to say that Fernest and Mekia have joined their forces?!”
“I cannot say for certain, only that it appears extremely likely.”
Since the beginning of this second war for the unification of the continent, not a single other nation had allied itself with Fernest. This alone was enough to heighten Fermat’s shock, but more than that, hearing that the ally in question was Mekia of all people intensified his sense of danger. Not only had the Winged Crusaders toyed with the elite Crimson Knights, but most importantly, they were backed by the Illuminatus Church. Mekia could not be written off as a mere minor nation.
“Also...”
“There’s more?!” Fermat exclaimed, unable to keep his voice low. Hassel went on calmly as though he hadn’t heard this outburst.
“A subsection of our soldiers have become agitated after seeing black banners with the Death God’s crest on them.”
“The Death God’s crest?” Despite himself, Fermat inhaled sharply. “You’re sure that’s what they saw?” Only one person dared raise those banners.
“The banners are very distinctive. I doubt there is any chance they could be mistaken.”
Fermat shut his mouth. Hassel was right—one look at that mark was enough to burn it into the mind forever. It would be harder not to recognize it. He had no choice but to accept that the Death God had joined the battle.
But why is the Royal Army attacking Fort Astora in the first place? It would make far more sense to turn them on Kier Fortress, if they have this many soldiers to spare. And the bit I really don’t follow is why the Death God—their best piece—is marching here and not on Kier Fortress.
“Something troubles you, ser?” Hassel inquired.
“It’s nothing,” Fermat replied at length. “Preparations are underway to meet the attackers, I assume?”
“We are proceeding with all thoroughness, ser,” Hassel said, nodding.
“Looking at the numbers, we don’t have a hope of driving them off. All we can do is hunker down behind our defenses until reinforcements arrive. Relay that to all the forces.”
“Yes, ser.”
Fermat wiped his mouth roughly with a handkerchief, then at once rose from his chair.
“Even if they do have a Death God in their ranks, that does not mean we are going to let them run rampant on imperial land. Make sure you remember to tell the soldiers that too.”
“Yes, ser.”
“And I’ll be commanding directly.” Fermat left the mess hall with Hassel, heading for the watchtower.
Second Allied Legion Command
Having surrounded Fort Astora, the Second Allied Legion began a ranged assault with successive longbow volleys.
“Pretty hard to see you taking down the fort if you keep this mode of attack up,” Blood pointed out, folding his arms as he surveyed the battle.
Ashton scratched his cheek. “I don’t think we’ll conquer the fort like this, of course,” he said. “I’m not that much of an optimist.”
“As much as I don’t want to start questioning you after I put you in charge of this, Lieutenant Colonel...” The imperials, faced with a massive army, had immediately opted to hole up in the fort, just as they had predicted. They no doubt meant to hold out for reinforcements, but Ashton had already placed soldiers along the routes he predicted they would take, with orders to dispatch any messengers who appeared without hesitation.
No reports have arrived of any messengers getting through at this stage. Things seem to be going to plan, on the whole, but for more reasons than one, we can’t afford to waste time.
Rubbing the back of his head and glancing over his shoulder, Blood saw Amelia standing imposingly behind him. From the rhythmic tapping of her fingers, he deduced that she was extremely annoyed. Ashton too seemed to notice the pressure radiating off her, as he was trembling.
An hour passed.
“It’s about time we finished this.” Amelia’s patience, it appeared, had reached its limit. She stepped forward toward them, in precisely the same moment that the runners Ashton had just given orders to all dashed away. Not long after, a rain of arrows dense enough to block out the sky flew at Fort Astora, followed by the sound of wheels turning as a line of siege ladders rose up along the fort wall. With valiant cries, soldiers began to clamber up.
So that was his plan. It’s a good one. Under any circumstances, it’s no easy thing to stay vigilant at all times on the battlefield. He lulled them into relaxing their guard with the monotony of those repeated attacks on purpose, waiting for his moment to strike when they least expected it. Then he used the disorder that created to get the siege ladders up... But...
What bothered Blood was that these siege ladders looked very different from the ones he knew—the most prominent example of this being the heavy plates that enclosed each ladder. They were also twice the size of a standard siege ladder.
“Were those ladders built on your instructions?”
“They were. With ordinary ladders, the soldiers get stuck with arrows before the ladders reach the walls, so I had these ones wrapped around with planks, then covered again with a thin layer of steel. Now they should be able to withstand even flaming arrows. The tricky part is that they’re extremely heavy, making transporting them challenging.”
“You worked that brain of yours hard, didn’t you?”
“I want to keep as many of our soldiers alive as I can,” Ashton said simply. Blood, however, thought that these new siege ladders were going to change the face of siege warfare.
Old Paul did call him a tactician of rare talent... At this stage, Ashton’s incredible mind was worth as much as an army of tens of thousands.
Blood felt a vague chill of fear and stole another look behind him at Amelia. Her demeanor had changed—she was now looking at Ashton as if to size him up.
“I don’t see Liv or Colonel Claudia,” Blood commented, raising the other point he had been wondering about. “Where are they?”
No sooner had he said it than Ashton’s eyes began to dart around nervously. Blood watched without a word until at last, with an air of resignation, Ashton pointed to the siege ladders.
Blood rubbed the back of his head. “Look,” he said, “the thing is, Liv is actually the second-in-command for the whole Second Allied Legion. You do know what that means, right?”
Olivia refusing to act according to common sense was nothing new, and it was precisely this that had given the imperial army so much grief. But even Blood was not about to condone a plan that involved the second-in-command of his army leading the charge right into the middle of the enemy just because of that.
“Colonel Claudia tried everything she could to stop her...”
“But in the end, she couldn’t be stopped, and so Colonel Claudia went with her?” Ashton looked at his feet, and Blood sighed deeply. “If the worst happens and Liv dies here, the whole strategy collapses. You can’t tell me you don’t know that.”
