IV
Fort Peshitta
“This is it then, I suppose,” said Sara, peering down from the fortress walls at the clamoring Swaran soldiers below. Senior Colonel Roland seized her arm tightly, his breathing ragged.
“Your Highness, you mustn’t watch the battle from up here! What if an arrow were to hit you?”
“At worst, I suppose I’d die,” replied Sara. She sounded unconcerned as Roland dragged her away. Lieutenant General Sara son Rivier was twenty-one years old, possessed a delicate beauty like a sculpture of blown glass, and was the only woman to hold a general’s rank in the Royal Army.
This was not the only face she wore, however.
Sara was also the fourth princess of Fernest. The only reason she was here was a shameless attempt to garner sympathy from the peasants by putting a member of the royal family on the front lines. That was the truth behind how Sara, who had always lagged a little behind the other generals, had ended up in command of the Sixth Legion. For the royal family, she was a convenient choice. As fourth princess, she had little political importance, and unlike most princesses, she’d learned how to use a sword as a child after being inspired by the knights in her picture books.
“Then you understand why you must come away from here, Your Highness!” said Roland. “If you die, the Sixth Legion will be lost!”
Here, Sara’s personal guard came running up to them, looking flustered. With an emphatic sigh, Roland dressed them down before ordering them to the princess’s side. As they spoke, the Swaran soldiers raised ladders to the fortress walls and came clambering up with murder in their eyes. Their allies held the assailants off with spears, as well as dropping rocks and even boiling water onto them. A week had passed since the Kingdom of Swaran, now a vassal state to the empire, had sent this mighty host to assault Fort Peshitta. Upon seeing that their enemy massively outnumbered them, Sara had decided to hole up within the fort and wait out the siege. For this to work, however, they needed food, and their supplies were dwindling. Even the strongest armies in history had never won a battle while starving, and the Sixth Legion wasn’t all that strong to begin with.
“Do you think reinforcements will come, in the end?” Sara asked absently, like it was someone else’s problem. She sat on the chair where Roland had put her, hugging her knees to her chest. The question hadn’t been directed at Roland, but he answered dutifully anyway.
“A messenger left with the utmost haste for the Seventh Legion, but...” He trailed off, pursing his lips. The meaning was plain. A messenger had indeed been sent, but they knew the Seventh Legion was moving to meet the imperial army in the north following the defeat of the Third and Fourth Legions. Calling on them for aid in spite of that had been little more than a gamble. Besides, even if the Seventh Legion came galloping to their rescue, would it matter?
“It’ll take another week at the very least for any reinforcements to arrive. We won’t hold out till then, will we?” said Sara. She exhaled deeply, then smiled at Roland. He said nothing, his lips still pursed as usual. But a shadow fell over his face that told Sara she was right.
Fort Peshitta had been a rushed construction job at the end of the warlord era, and the finished fort wasn’t exactly robust. Even now, the enemy hammered on the gates with their battering ram, and with every strike the wooden bar holding them shut creaked painfully. The soldiers of the Sixth Legion were doing everything they could to defend the walls, but the enemy were taking full advantage of their numbers. For every attacker they cut down, another immediately appeared behind the corpse of their comrade. In the battle with the Steel Chargers, they had managed to escape by the skin of their teeth. This time, however, they were trapped inside the fortress walls.
If it comes to that, I’ll surrender, thought Sara. If I offer myself up, they should spare the soldiers. I might be illegitimate, but I’m still a princess. As the roar of battle echoed through Fort Peshitta, Sara quietly steeled her resolve.
After they finished resting and resupplying, the Independent Cavalry Regiment left Canalia. Gaggles of children came to wave them off. Olivia smiled and waved back as they rode out. A moment after they exited the town, however, she pulled on the black horse’s reins to bring it to a stop, and looked towards the forest. Her smile was gone, replaced with a frown.
“Major? Is something wrong?” Claudia asked, glancing around them to look for threats.
But Olivia only replied, “I think I saw a rat scurrying around over there.”
“I... I see. A rat.” Claudia relaxed. A rat seemed a rather trivial thing to stop so abruptly for, she thought. She followed Olivia’s gaze, but couldn’t see any sign of this rat. It would be pretty unusual in the first place for a rat to be out in the open in such brilliant sunshine. She tentatively called up the power in her eyes—the ability Olivia had named Heaven’s Sight—and looked again, but she still couldn’t make out any trace of a rat.
“I don’t see anything, ser,” she said bluntly. Olivia, apparently losing interest, looked away from the forest, then reached out to stroke the black horse’s neck.
“You don’t need to worry. If one comes near us, I’ll just stomp on it. Anyway, are we going to help the Sixth Legion or what?” said Olivia, turning the black horse west. They were supposed to be going to the desert town of Cefim, which lay in the opposite direction.
“Are you really sure about that, ser? It would mean departing from our orders...”
“But now that we know what’s happening, we can’t just leave them to die. And there’s no time to send a messenger back to the Seventh Legion,” replied Olivia. As she spoke, she looked back at Berhard. He bowed so deeply his face collided with his horse’s back.
“That’s all true of course, ser. I just worry that if we detour, the threat to the Second Legion will only grow,” said Claudia. If the question was which was in greater peril, the answer was obviously the Sixth Legion. But looking at the war as a whole, it was also clear which side the scales favored. Claudia knew it was the height of arrogance to want to save both, but that was how she truly felt.
“I told you, the Second Legion will be fine. Remember what Ashton said? The northern imperial army is waiting for the Seventh Legion to show up, which means they won’t make a move until we do,” said Olivia. She looked at Ashton, who screwed up his face.
“I mean, I wouldn’t... I did say that, but it was just a thought I had. I don’t know if I was right or not...” he said weakly, looking between Olivia and Claudia and shrinking down in his saddle. Olivia patted him hard on the back with a hearty laugh.
“Oh, Ashton, you’re so funny.”
“What about me?!”
“That thing you do where you get the right answer and then go overthinking it. That’s why you can’t beat me in chess. Thinking things through is important too, but—” Here Olivia’s face suddenly became serious. “—if you think too much, you can lose yourself.” Ashton opened his mouth to protest, then hung his head. Olivia laced her fingers together and stretched her arms out, then looked back to Claudia. “Right, we don’t have much time, so we’d better get a move on.” The black horse, as though it understood its master’s wishes, gave a high-pitched neigh and charged forward across the plain. Ashton, Claudia, and the whole of the Independent Cavalry Regiment scrambled to follow her.
Just hold on, Lieutenant General Sara... thought Berhard. He gripped his reins and spurred his horse into a gallop.
“Did that girl notice us?”
“Don’t be stupid.” Two men clad entirely in black stepped out of the forest just as the Independent Cavalry Regiment vanished from sight. They belonged to the Shimmer—the imperial intelligence agency. Their names were First Lieutenant Arvin and Sergeant Major Lester.
“The way she reacted, she definitely noticed us. And at this distance! Going off her appearance, do you think she’s the monster everyone’s been talking about?”
“Lieutenant Arvin, you must be mistaken. She wasn’t even using a spyglass. It was a coincidence, nothing more,” said Lester with a shrug. He returned his spyglass to its holder at his hip.
“This is why you’re never getting promoted. You’re blinded by your assumptions. There are things in this world beyond our understanding, and that’s a fact.”
“You mean...mages?” said Lester, looking doubtful. Arvin nodded.
“Mages are one example. And if mages exist, we shouldn’t be surprised if there are other beings like them.”
“And you think that pretty little girl is one? Honestly, she looked to me like she couldn’t hurt a fly,” said Lester, looking in the direction the Independent Cavalry Regiment had rode off in with a faint scowl.
“The Royal Army aren’t such fools that they’d let a pretty little girl command a force like that. This is a prime example of why you can’t judge by appearances. You heard about Fort Caspar, didn’t you?”
“Neither arrow nor blade can touch her or something? Honestly, I thought that was probably some local fairytale.”
“Well, that fairytale had four thousand soldiers so terrified they gave up Fort Caspar with barely a fight. And I believe that Lord Osvannes and Lord Georg died at the hands of the fairy tale’s protagonist.”
“A-Are you sure?!” cried Lester, his eyes going wide.
“I am still putting the pieces together, so I cannot say for certain at this stage.” Lester fell silent for a moment.
“Does Lady Rosenmarie know?” he asked. His voice was quieter than before. Arvin shook his head.
“Not yet. As I said, I’m still in the middle of putting the pieces together.”
Everyone in the Shimmer knew about Rosenmarie’s burning hatred towards the Seventh Legion for killing Osvannes. Around half their agents had even been assigned to surveilling the Seventh Legion’s movements. This made it all the more important that they kept anything they learned under wraps until they were sure of it. Arvin knew far better than he liked how half-formed rumors and scraps could be less than helpful and even sow confusion instead.
“You listen to me. Even in the most incredible tales, there is always a fragment of truth. We are the Shimmer. It’s our job to gather up those fragments, analyze them, and convey what we learn without omission. Outright battle is always a last resort, don’t ever forget that.” Arvin sounded as though he were trying to convince himself. He patted Lester on the shoulder.
“Yes, ser. I’ll be sure to remember,” he said. “By the way, did you see their banners?”
“I did. The lions and the seven stars. They’re from the Seventh Legion, no question,” replied Arvin. With Rosenmarie pressing incessantly for results, he was privately relieved that they’d at last caught their quarry’s tail.
“Still, something feels off. If they were going to the north, surely they’d have headed east from here...” said Lester, frowning into the distance after the Seventh Legion. He was correct—to reach the northern lands, they ought to advance east. Yet the Seventh Legion had instead headed west—the exact opposite direction.
“Do they mean to go to the central front?”
“What should we do?” asked Lester. Arvin thought for a moment.
“All right, I’ll follow after them with the others. Wherever they’re headed, we need to keep an eye on them in order to make a report. Sergeant Major Lester, you go back to Lady Rosenmarie with all haste and tell her we’ve found the Seventh Legion. However,” he said, pausing for emphasis, “remember what I said earlier and don’t mention Lord Osvannes.”
“Yes, ser!”
“Oh, also. Tell her the monster might be with them too.”
“The... Are you sure, ser?”
“We need to urge caution. Though she doesn’t seem especially interested in the monster at the moment.”
“Understood, ser,” said Lester with a salute.
“Good. Then you may go,” said Arvin. Lester wasted no time in mounting his horse and galloping off eastwards. Arvin watched him go, remembering another fallen comrade.
There’s been no word from Lieutenant Zenon since he sent word he was about to infiltrate Galia Fortress. Zenon, one of the greatest agents the Shimmer has, gone... And then there’s the monster... We need to be on our guard. He thought of the face of the girl from earlier. Even through his spyglass, she’d been so beautiful she hardly seemed real. Arvin felt a slight chill, and turned quickly to retreat back into the depths of the forest.
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