III
Field Marshal Cornelius’s Workroom at Leticia Castle in Fernest
The sun’s piercing rays shone down, scorching hot as though it were midsummer, on the day the news reached a busy-as-usual Cornelius.
“You’re saying that the United City-States of Sutherland are making suspicious movements?” The marshal sat down at his desk without hurry and looked up at the handsome, blond-haired youth who stood before him.
“Yes, ser,” replied Major General Neinhardt. “Or more accurately, Sutherland’s Twelfth City of Northern Perscilla is assembling an army. The details are in here.” He held out a document and Cornelius accepted it. Pulling a pair of spectacles from the desk drawer, he peered at the words written there.
It reported that Northern Perscilla was gathering soldiers at Fort Safar, which lay on the border with the kingdom. It took scarce mental effort to conclude that they were planning military action against Fernest. Cornelius read the whole report through, then signed it and handed it back to Neinhardt.
The young man took it dutifully. “Is Sutherland marching at last, then?” he blurted out as though he couldn’t help himself.
“This more or less confirms it. I imagine they saw a juicy opportunity with the empire falling back,” Cornelius replied, accepting a cup of tea proffered by a servant as he continued. “By the way, this report mentioned only Northern Perscilla. What are the other cities up to, I wonder?”
“Only the Twelfth City appears to be stirring at present. I’ve received no reports of any notable activity from any of the other cities as of yet.”
“Then it would appear this decision was not made unanimously within Sutherland,” Cornelius said with relief. Sutherland bringing all its armies to bear in an invasion against Fernest was the worst-case scenario. Such an army would number no fewer than two hundred thousand soldiers, and that was a low estimate. Fernest did not have the soldiers to fight Sutherland properly right now. As the leader of the Royal Army, Cornelius knew this fact better than anyone.
“Do you think it likely that Northern Perscilla is acting alone then, Lord Marshal?” Neinhardt asked.
“Yes. The city-states of Sutherland, though we call them cities, maintain independent autonomy. I suspect that the other cities have no involvement with this particular matter.”
Still, with preparations well underway for their counteroffensive into the empire, the timing of Northern Perscilla’s plotted invasion couldn’t have been more inconvenient. Cornelius heaved a heavy sigh.
“Don’t worry, ser,” said Neinhardt. “Against the forces of a single city, we have plenty of options available to us.”
Cornelius felt his mouth quirk in a wry smile, one that expressed two different meanings—his remorse at making this young man express such solicitude towards him, and his wondering why Neinhardt couldn’t direct that same solicitude towards his aide, Katerina.
There had been an incident a few days previously that had stuck in Cornelius’s mind. He had happened to come across Katerina in the corridor, and so had in passing asked her about her progress with Neinhardt. After standing frozen for a few moments as though turned to stone, she had, with her eyes fixed on the floor, muttered sheepishly, “He’s not so well-versed in that area...”
I did try to advise her that such men need things spelled out for them... Cornelius reflected. I wonder how it will work out.
“Is something the matter, Lord Marshal?” asked Neinhardt.
“What? Oh, nothing,” Cornelius said, deflecting. “Now, in that case, we’ll need to have someone deal with them...” Even as he spoke, however, the face of a beautiful young girl was already in his mind’s eye. Neinhardt, apparently guessing what Cornelius was thinking, grimaced.
“Major General Olivia and the Eighth Legion, I suppose.”
“Indeed. It’s not what we had planned, but there will be no other chance for a first action like it.”
Even now, Lambert still hadn’t come to terms with Olivia commanding the Eighth Legion. He wasn’t the sort of man to voice criticisms once a decision had been made, but thanks to their long acquaintance, Cornelius could read his thoughts quite clearly.
“Shall I summon Major General Olivia, then?”
“Hmm...” Cornelius mused. “Where is she right now?”
“I imagine at this hour she’s at the training grounds. This is when they drill the fresh recruits.”
“What do you say we go and see her there, then?” Cornelius put his hands on the arms of his chair and slowly pushed himself up, waving aside Neinhardt who had hurried to hold a hand out to him.
“I hardly think you need to go yourself, my lord...”
“Why not? I am curious as to how the major general is training her new troops,” Cornelius said. From what he’d heard, Olivia was not only an exceptional individual warrior, but also possessed an extraordinary head for strategy and tactics. How she had developed the independent cavalry regiment into an elite force in such a short span of time could only be described as brilliant.
“I shall accompany you then,” Neinhardt said promptly.
In response, Cornelius only said quietly, “I don’t believe I’m so decrepit that I need a chaperone yet.”
Neinhardt was constantly snowed under with work coordinating all the different legions. Cornelius, by way of consideration of this fact, had meant his words as a refusal, but Neinhardt only looked conflicted for a moment before he made his face neutral and once again requested permission to accompany Cornelius.
Dear me. I suppose arguing further is futile, Cornelius thought. Suppressing a sigh, he gave his permission.
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