98.
98.
[Zaku!]
"Hurk!"
The blade went deep.
[Gon!]
"Ungh!"
[Dosha!]
Because he had ducked low as he came in, his already short stature became even lower, and he toppled backward after taking a direct hit to the head from the flying shield.
The enemy fell comically backward.
But that did not help Kenred in the slightest right now.
"Th-that murdering bastard... urgh...!"
The advantage of mail: strong against slashing attacks. The disadvantage: weak against thrusting attacks.
However, it could not be viewed so simply, because on the battlefield there were too many variables—sometimes it held, sometimes it didn't.
In the end, simply put, Kenred was unlucky this time. The sword that the naturally left-handed Leofric thrust broke through the weak rings over his abdomen and dug deep.
"Haaah— haaah—"
Having gotten a little angry, the blade lodged in his belly gave him a tearing agony.
Each breath that entered and left his body only seemed to worsen the pain.
In an instant, his body flared up like a ball of fire around the cold metal buried in his gut, and Kenred, strength draining from his legs, sank to the ground there, clutching his stomach.
He was so near death himself that he could not even consider finishing off the assassin who had collapsed before his eyes.
Furthermore, the circumstances around him were not flowing in Kenred's favor.
"Th-the ealdorman! Protect the ealdorman!"
"You murdering bastard—!"
[Pyun! Pyupyun! Pyupyupyun!]
[Pan! Zaku! Tang! Teong!]
"Kerk!"
"Ungh!"
"Shields! Don't lower your shields!"
Arrows flew into the necks of three bodyguards who had moved rashly, and the assassins, now boldly revealing themselves among the crowd, loosed arrows at the flinching guards.
Thanks to that, while guards were struck by arrows and crawling on the ground or crouching and cramming themselves as far behind their shields as they could, one figure moved freely and swiftly.
The man shifted his steps to the side of Leofric, who had fallen in a rather undignified posture, and approached Kenred, who had likewise collapsed to the ground, clutching his abdomen with trembling hands.
Bede's touch was exceedingly rough. As if he harbored ill feeling.
"Ealdorman Kenred. This is nothing personal."
The sudden assault, the ambush, both lords fallen.
In the midst of it, the betrayer Judas, having swiftly come to his senses, finally grasped the dagger buried in his own belly.
Staring at the scene with bloodshot eyes, tears of fury and resentment streamed from Kenred's eyes.
"Y-you ungrateful wreeeeeeetch—!"
Without mercy, Bede, gripping the hilt of the dagger lodged in Kenred's abdomen, twisted it slightly and hauled Kenred forcefully to his feet.
The guards who had been slowly approaching Kenred while blocking the assassins' arrows all cried out in horror, but there was nothing they could do.
"Ealdorman Kenred! You beggar! Let go of him!"
"Judas betrayer! You shameful wretch!"
Despite the denunciations pouring in from all sides, Bede actually wore a sneer on his face.
Holding Kenred from behind, who was writhing in agony but stumbling along under Bede's grip, he shouted loudly.
"Everyone, clear the way! Otherwise, your ealdorman dies right here!"
"Aaaaaaargh—! Stop—! Stoooop—!"
Now Kenred shed not tears of resentment but tears and snot of pain.
Blood flowed from his belly and drool from his mouth.
Seeing that, the guards parted ways, at a loss for what to do.
The strange and clamorous standoff continued until all of the hostage-takers who had exited the east gate reached the west gate.
[Shwaaa— Shwaaa— Don! Dodon! Pan! Panpanpan!]
"Aagh! My eyes! My eyes... kerk!"
"Keep your heads down! Keep your heads down!"
"At least bring stones! Stones— urk!"
"I said keep your heads down, you idiots!"
If the situation at the east gate was chaos, the situation at the west gate was hell on earth.
With a heart boiling with anxiety, they had crossed the central square of the fortress and reached the west gate, but regardless of whether the lord was bleeding and screaming in captivity, those consumed by the noise and madness of war continued fighting in their own little worlds.
Sensing that the eyes of the troops blocking the west gate were turning toward him, Bede signaled with his eyes to the Huntadun hunters who were carrying the unconscious Leofric behind him.
"People of Lincoln! Here stands Ealdorman Kenred! I have received a promise from Konungr Helgi that he will not take the lives of the people here, so throw away your lives in this senseless fight no longer! Otherwise, the ealdorman will die right here, right now! And your own lives will follow!"
A cry that seemed to spit blood.
And beside him, the sight of Kenred, screaming wretchedly with a completely hoarse throat.
Swallowing dryly, the cold sweat that trickled down soaked the already unusually heavy armor.
The eyes of those handling their weapons and shields were uniformly filled with agony, yet in the end, no one moved to block the Huntadun men who were carefully making their way to the west gate.
[Giii— Giiii—]
"Hrnngh...! No, why is this thing so heavy?"
"Put some more strength into it...!"
"Damn it... Does it make any sense that we've come all this way and can't lift one damn thing!?"
The great, solid bar would not budge even with four men clinging to it.
Only when a few Lincoln soldiers around the west gate hesitantly lent a hand did the bar finally get removed.
[Giii— Gikii—! Don!]
"Hugh! It's done! Thank you, brothers!"
"..."
In this chaotic and repulsive situation, paradoxically, Bede could at last feel peace.
A supremely pragmatic peace, like 'I won't go hungry anymore.'
*****
"Uh— that, why is that opening?"
Astride my horse and observing the battlefield with Refil, I had no choice but to stuff the jerky I had been about to eat back into my pouch.
[Burururu—]
I stepped into the stirrups, using Camembert as a support to stand up, which gave me a better view of what was unfolding.
"Uhh— why is that, why is that opening...?"
As if to prove we shared the same blood, Refil showed the exact same reaction.
But this was no time to chuckle at Refil's reaction.
"Damn. We'll find out the reason later! Stórolf!"
"Yes, Konungr!"
[Dagadak— Dagadak—]
Stórolf, who had been guarding me from a short distance away with fire in his eyes, galloped his horse at the bellowing voice, and I immediately gave my valiant vanguard commander an order.
"Deliver the order to Ubba, who is closest to the west gate! The enemy's west gate has opened, so enter the fortress! Do not cut down those who surrender!"
"Yes! Yes!? The west gate!? Ah, understood!"
Stórolf reflexively lowered his head, then lifted it in shock. At my hardened expression, he moved like lightning toward the battlefield.
[Dugudugudugu— Hurry up—! Hyah! Hyah!]
Ten-odd cavalry followed behind him, and then I gave an order to Refil as well.
"Refil! Except for Ubba's forces, concentrate on the regions you are currently attacking! I do not want our army's full strength drawn toward the Seongmun! Those who surrender are not to be killed!"
"Yes! Konungr! We too shall move! Hyah!"
"Hyah!"
"Hyah!"
[Dugudugu— dugudugu—]
The procession of mounted warriors departed with a vigorous military salute.
Of course, I had given the order, but the commanders facing the enemy on the field must have been seeing red by now.
It would be fortunate if they were not charging straight to the front lines themselves, swinging swords, since the remnants of the old ways still lingered. Whether the Seongmun opened or not, the chances were high they were focused solely on crushing the foes before their eyes... so it was best to share the current situation as quickly as possible.
'Anyway, what on earth is this...'
Were there two factions within the city? A war party and a peace party? Even so, for such a variable to spring up in the middle of a siege.
And on the first day, no less!
'Could it be that Leofric...?'
When I sent him to infiltrate the city, I had told him to prioritize thinking about escaping alive no matter what. Did he set things in motion in that short span of time?
Leofric. He might be a far more capable man than I had thought.
To be honest, the joy of gaining a talented man was greater than the joy of gaining a fortress. Of course, I would have to investigate the precise circumstances, but this time too, I felt that my instinct was correct.
"Great Konungr! What should we do!?"
Stórolf and Refil had already departed for the battlefield, and all the Jarls were out in the field as frontline commanders. Since I remained in the rear with my personal cavalry, I had thought there would be no one to ask me such a bellicose question.
An unexpected ambush—Leon of Constantinople asked me, his face flushed crimson.
"...What do you mean, what would you do?"
"To confirm a more vivid representation of the scene, would one not have to enter the battlefield!?"
This immature scholar, honestly...
Was he fearless because he had never been struck by a sword or an arrow before?
Dumbfounded, I slowly shook my head.
"That is out of the question, Leon. You are to assist me, so where could you possibly go? Without you, managing the flow of orders would be difficult, so I must ask you to endure your frustration, regrettable as it may be."
Whether my words sounded like I was looking out for him, Leon began his repertoire of praising me with a deeply moved expression, starting with "Oh, great Konungr—"
The servants I had assigned to his side were surely Norsemen... but these eccentrics (Norsemen who liked books), who had been thoroughly tainted by Leon, lifted their noses as if they themselves were being praised.
Having thus quelled the disturbance at my side, I turned my gaze back toward the battlefield.
With Leon's voice continuously ringing out from beside me like a radio, the chaos of the battlefield went on unfolding.
'War truly is unknowable...'
I readied myself to bolt out if necessary, soothing Camembert, who did not much like it when I stood up in the saddle.
*****
"Urk!"
Stars flashed, and after that came a brief world of pure white.
And then a stretch of darkness that continued on.
"... Mmmgh! Urgh—"
A head throbbing as if about to shatter. A numb forehead.
The sensation as if someone had hammered every inch of his entire body.
Feeling that tingling, stinging sensation all over, the Jarl of Huntadun, Leofric, pushed his eyelids up with great difficulty.
It was as if someone had placed a boar on his pounding head. The weight was so heavy it pushed his eyelids down.
In the end, giving up on fully opening his eyes, Leofric tried to adjust the focus blurring before his half-lidded eyes, and a brown object finally entered his vision.
'A ceiling I've never seen before...'
It meant this was not my house, at least.
Then where was this?
The next sense to return after sight was his sense of smell.
Soon, a delicious scent that pervaded the space where he lay stimulated his nostrils.
[Gurgle—]
'Did I have dinner...? No, lunch?'
"Urgh... uuugh..."
Hunger be damned, the weight of his head and the drowsiness that flooded back in made Leofric sink into the darkness without much resistance, until a voice pulled him out.
"Oh! You're awake! Jarl Leofric!"
'This voice is...'
Without a doubt, it was the voice of the peculiar man who remained attached to Konungr Helgi's side.
'Wait. Konungr Helgi? Huntadun... Stanford... Lincoln... Lincoln?'
Amidst the haze of everything else, the face and voice of Konungr Helgi remained vividly clear, as if seared into his mind with a branding iron, and his unearthly majesty surfaced.
Then, forgotten memories rushed back like a flood.
'Infiltration, Bede, a foul-smelling place, foul-smelling people, Cenred. Cenred. That bastard...!'
The one who had reduced him to this state.
"—Therefore, by the special command of the great Konungr, I am to record the course of this battle—"
"You son of a bitch! Grrr...!"
As Cenred's face—striking him over the head—rose in his mind, Leofric leaped up, unable to contain his rage, and immediately regretted it. The headache, which had seemed to be subsiding a little, returned in a frantic rush.
"Urgh...!"
"Oh dear, are you alright!? Here! Bring water, at once!"
"Yes! Jarl Leon!"
"I told you, I am not a Jarl!"
A few Norsemen who always followed Leon around hurried off to find water. Now at last beginning to heed their master's words, Leofric moved his arms to cradle his temples and opened his mouth with great effort.
"Jarl Leon...! The battle...! What of the battle? Are the people alright?"
"I am not a Jarl, I said..."
'What does it matter what you yourself wish... everyone already knows you as the Jarl.'
Leofric, whose temper had shortened because of the headache, grumbled internally, but he could not bring himself to get angry at the Konungr's close confidant.
"You inflicted a mortal wound upon the enemy chieftain, and even as you collapsed, you thought only of your duty and the safety of the weak until the end...! Jarl Leofric. Though you fall short of the great Konungr, you are truly an honorable man! I, Leon, am full of admiration!"
'Just answer the question I asked, please...'
"Thank you, Jarl Leon."
"The battle ended in our victory thanks to Jarl Leofric's exploits. A great victory with little damage at all! The refugees of Dour whom you risked your life to rescue are all safe and have come under the Konungr's protection. A man named Bede asked to be informed the moment the Jarl opened his eyes. He said he owes you his life."
"Is that so? That... is a relief."
'A relief.'
Even as he felt the throbbing ache in his head, Leofric was finally able to let out a deep breath.
'I'd rather hunt a bear alone. This is not something to do twice.'
"Eorl Cenred's execution is today. Will you be able to attend?"
Leon spoke softly to Leofric, who had closed both eyes and leaned back against the wall of his allocated spot in the space filled with the wounded.
Leofric's eyes, which had been about to settle into the most comfortable position a man could take, snapped open.
"Of course! When and where is that bastard dying!?"
Can I not kill him!?
The headache fled in an instant.