Wolf Hunt (6)
Heigirt was a formidable monster, but he made several mistakes in the battle.
Having easily crushed multiple legions at our camp the previous day, he underestimated the remaining strength of the 16th Legion and the Atillca Legion.
Of course, he knew they were elite troops, but he misjudged that their morale must have been broken by the losses among their allies.
We shattered his expectations with the legion's unbreakable cohesion and fighting spirit.
On top of that, aligning their forces against our catapult barrage took far more time than anticipated.
Given the peculiarities of night combat, it was somewhat unavoidable, but that small margin proved decisive.
Had they moved more swiftly, we might not have mounted any real resistance and could have been trampled underfoot.
But those are mere hypotheticals now.
Overnight, we decimated more than half of Heigirt's army. This overwhelming victory ensured the barbarians could no longer threaten us in open battle.
Riding our momentum, our forces encircled the city of Belanga.
The barbarians retreated inside and attempted a siege defense, but holding out in a fortified position wasn't their forte.
I ordered palisades erected around the city and unleashed the barbarian cavalry to solidify the encirclement.
Just as the siege lines were nearly complete, I dispatched a messenger to Briton requesting wheat and barley. We had plenty of meat from the slain horses; grain was all we needed.
The Briton governor promised nearly everything we required.
He also committed his scant naval vessels to seal off the harbor nearby.
With that, the war was as good as over.
No monster greater than Heigirt could reverse the tide now.
A week into the siege, an envoy arrived from Belanga.
I received the barbarian emissary bare-chested, in the middle of applying salve to my back.
"It's been a while, Commander."
I was mildly surprised by the unexpected visitor. It was Prince Brikin, king of the barbarians.
I had my attendants fetch a cloak, which I threw on haphazardly, and greeted him.
"I didn't expect the prince himself. Things that dire?"
"What's the point of long words? We've all but lost, waiting only for the empire's judgment."
"Then it should be simple. Just hand over your heads."
I replied coolly.
"But that wouldn't benefit the empire much."
"Killing you isn't beneficial? What nonsense is that?"
"Coldly speaking, we've already lost the power to defy the empire. Without your protection, our survival is in jeopardy."
"So you want us to overlook your past insolence? Why should we?"
Brikin pointed east with a finger.
"If we vanish entirely, how will the empire handle the new barbarians rising from the east?"
I crossed my legs.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I was ordered to punish those who ravaged the empire. Sparing you would undermine imperial dignity."
"Then take my father's head."
Brikin said calmly.
I was stunned.
"You'll surrender your king's head?"
"If he's led his people into ruin, he must bear the blame. That's our way. Since entering the siege, Father hasn't touched water or food. He's ready to go anyway."
"You're awfully detached about your own father."
"A royal can't be swayed by personal feelings, can he?"
Brikin replied.
The bastard truly carried his father's stature.
With a son like this, Heigirt must have acknowledged his errors, offered his own head, and planned for the future. Terrifying lot.
I steepled my fingers, lost in thought.
"But you're too dangerous to trust. Even weakened, your cunning terrifies me. Your father's head isn't enough."
Brikin, as if anticipating, spoke up.
"Then take hostages. Place my daughter and son under your command. If they please you, take them as you will."
"Even your own blood."
"For the tribe's fate, it's a small price."
"And if that's not enough?"
"We'll offer all remaining warriors as auxiliaries. In return, allow us to settle within imperial borders and guarantee our safety."
Unconditional surrender.
I closed my eyes.
Emotionally, the Thunder Tribe deserved extermination. They'd ravaged imperial soil, slain countless soldiers and civilians. Punishing them was just.
But would that end it all?
Reality wasn't so tidy.
As Brikin said, beyond the borders lay endless barbarians—like the Dein tribe we'd fought before.
Controlling them with our depleted forces? Easier said than done.
Brikin offered cooperation in exchange for their security.
Clever.
And cunning. He knew exactly what to bargain for survival.
I bit my lip.
"One more promise, and I'll deal with you leniently. Not only settlement within borders, but taxes equal to border provincials."
"Name it."
"You. Serve in my army."
I singled out Brikin.
The prince was a monster rivaling his father. Letting him roam free was worse than killing him. He hesitated briefly, then nodded.
"Agreed."
"Good. Convey my terms to your father."
"Yes. Next time, I'll greet you as a subordinate."
Brikin bowed formally and withdrew from the tent.
As he left, I gave a wry smile. Once, he'd relentlessly tried to bring me under his command.
Yet fate had reversed it—he'd serve under me. Ironic.
My wry smile faded as I called for Rikius.
"Rikius!"
"Yes, sir."
"Tell the barbarian cavalry a ceasefire negotiation will soon conclude."
"Yes, sir."
I sent Rikius off and leaned back in my chair.
Heigirt, the barbarian king, was a man of fierce pride. He'd slit his own throat in suicide, they said.
Brikin brought his father's severed head in a basket and knelt before me.
I gazed at Heigirt's head in the basket.
Even in death, the old barbarian I'd never seen up close exuded intensity.
A solitary wolf. The dignity of a supreme ruler etched in every line and wrinkle.
I stared at his face, then summoned Boruman.
"You called?"
"This is the head of Thunder Tribe King Heigirt. Cremate it honorably and hold a proper funeral."
"Pardon?"
I'd decided to honor Heigirt. Not out of respect for a worthy foe, but to honor the Thunder Tribe's impending subjugation and Brikin's pride.
Trivial, perhaps, but dismissing it lightly could breed future trouble.
"That's an order."
"Yes, sir."
As Boruman carried off the head, Brikin saluted with arm across chest.
"Thank you for preserving my father's honor."
"Not his honor. I did it hoping your tribe stays loyal to the empire."
I replied curtly, rising and walking. At my gesture, Brikin followed.
"One more thing to report, sir."
"Speak."
"It's personal, concerning you."
My steps halted.
"Personal?"
"Yes. Do you remember Garin?"
I answered coldly.
"I do. An imperial traitor."
"He was in our custody."
"Rescued from Lance's prison?"
"Yes."
So that's how it was.
"Where is he now?"
"He stayed briefly in Belanga, then headed east."
Made sense for that man. He'd sacrificed much for Briton independence; learning even Heigirt, seeming an ally, had used him would make staying unbearable.
Unable to return to Briton, east to barbarian lands was logical.
"Better choice for him. Had he stayed, I'd have burned him at the stake."
Brikin nodded.
I stood with him before Belanga's walls. The city gates stood wide, its leader having surrendered.
"Time to enter. Rikius!"
"Yes, sir."
"The first honor of entering the city is yours."
"Thank you, sir."
Rikius bore the 16th Legion's standard at the vanguard, striding proudly into the city. The Atillca Legion followed, then the standards of the five annihilated legions.
After the legions entered, I rode in with the barbarian cavalry, tribal chieftains at my side.
As we entered, residents knelt hastily. Most original inhabitants had been sold as slaves; the current occupants were all barbarians.
"Imperator Ain! Long live Imperator Ain!"
Soldiers behind me chanted my title as supreme commander.
The barbarians, terrified, prostrated fully.
As we turned onto the main avenue toward the plaza, I spotted a familiar woman amid the barbarians.
My jaw dropped.
Rica.
I halted the column and dismounted.
"Ain."
She recognized me.
We stared dumbly for a moment.
Gazing at her, I noticed a strange barbarian man beside her. She held his hand.
I strode toward her.
"How are you here?"
I started, then stopped.
Captured by the barbarian horde that swept Libitus. No need to ask.
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
"Who's he?"
Rica answered haltingly.
"The man who saved me."
Saved her.
I sensed deep trust in those words.
Rica.
I'd believed I loved her more than anyone, yet under the guise of protecting the empire, I'd sent her away. Thought dispatching her deep into imperial territory fulfilled my duty.
But now, the consequences of my choice stared me in the face.
"I wanted to protect you."
"I know. That's why you sent me far from your side."
She said.
Her words choked me silent.
Throat tight, no words came.
Ain, great general of the empire, victor over barbarian heroes—reduced to a mute before one frail woman.
Nothing to say.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"I'm sorry."
She consoled me.
But I was the sorry one. Had I thought of her more, I'd have sought her immediately after the first war.
My choice not to.
Could I blame her for accepting another's protection when I hadn't sought her?
I shook my head.
As I turned away, Rubiot clapped my shoulder.
"Our great Imperator! Commander Ain! Why so drained?"
"Rubiot. I just saw Rica."
"Then go to her. Embarrassed? Want me to fetch her?"
He grinned.
"She's found a new protector."
Rubiot paused, then wore a bitter look.
"Sorry."
"No need."
Unable to hide my heavy heart, I walked on.
The world hailed me with glory, chanting my name—yet I chewed on bitter feelings.
Is the world truly fair?
Wishing Rica happiness, I slipped into the city hall's shadows.
(To be continued)