The Great Duel (1)
"Master Ahak. Is it still far?"
"Do you see that light up ahead? We only need to go a little further."
"A light?"
Rhea brightened at the welcome news, and Ahak found the sight more than a little annoying.
She walks with her eyes glued to the ground — how would she ever know what's up ahead?
Frankly speaking, she was nothing more than a lump of baggage.
Well, whatever. At least she keeps the werewolf under control.
Thanks to her, they had crossed the mountain path without losing their way. Spotty's merit was as good as Rhea's own, so he had decided not to poke at her incompetence.
"What's with that face? You look like you're barely restraining yourself from lecturing me, and I don't like it."
True enough. Ahak was being magnanimous. He could afford to be.
Wasn't he about to meet elves before long? In a situation like this, what did Rhea's nagging matter?
Ordinarily I'd be drooling over nothing but centaurs, but this time is different. I heard the Khan of the Wilderness has set up camp.
Ahak's eyes gleamed brightly.
"Oooh."
His eyes sparkled in a way utterly unlike himself. Rhea, watching him, gagged. It was too grotesque to bear.
Throw up if you want to.
Ahak, of course, paid her no mind whatsoever. To an elf-obsessive, a human woman was a creature beneath even a talking rock.
Rocks, at least, don't pester you.
Before he knew it, they had drawn near the light. He could almost feel its warmth. It was truly a moving moment.
And how could it not be? He had escaped the savage world of the orcs and returned, at last, to the embrace of brilliant civilization.
Kyiiing—
"Spotty?"
Spotty shrank back. He was the exact opposite of Ahak, who welcomed the light. The figure that had led them all from the front vanished entirely, and he began to fall conspicuously behind.
"There's nothing to be afraid of."
For Spotty, the firelight was more frightening than any darkness. Just as humans dreaded the pitch-black night, beasts alike loathed a bright one.
"At last. At last, I've arrived!"
Ahak spread both arms wide, awash in emotion.
Thwip—
"Hm?"
At first he couldn't tell what the sound was.
"An arrow?"
He carefully lowered his gaze, running it over his chest and legs. Nothing was wrong.
"Spotty!"
Rhea's scream and Spotty's furious barking rang out together. Ah— he realized too late.
"Were you hit?"
"We're both fine!"
[Human! Watch out for the werewolf behind you!]
It was the elvish tongue — the elvish used by the steppe elves.
Ahak's eyes flew wide open.
The pronunciation isn't the least bit clumsy. A native speaker. And there's a wildness to the accent — the distinctive lilt of the Wasteland mixed in.
It couldn't be. It couldn't be...
Elves.
His heart swelled. He turned his head, slowly and carefully.
[Are you unharmed?]
Beautiful elves stood before them.
Wow! Not one elf, but two!
They showed no sign of hostility toward Ahak. Clearly, their wariness was fixed on Spotty alone.
They must think Spotty is a wild werewolf.
One of the elf women was drawing her bowstring taut, as if determined to finish things decisively this time. Rhea let out a shrill shriek.
"Ahak! Do something!"
A situation where communication was impossible — which meant Ahak was the only one who could mediate.
My, my.
Was the hour finally at hand to display his talent?
"I suppose I have no choice."
"No choice about what? You're always going on and on in elvish every chance you get!"
He ignored her and drifted into memories of the past.
How much persecution and contempt had he endured? A useless, party-trick skill, they said. A man who would sell out his own country — and that one, admittedly, wasn't entirely wrong. He had swallowed every insult thrown his way without protest.
"Ahak!"
"Ahh."
Never again would anyone be able to say such things to him.
Ahak cried out in a proud, ringing voice.
"Зогс!"
The elves tilted their heads at Ahak's shout.
[I think he's telling us to stop?]
"Тэр чоныг манай групп өсгөж байгаа!"
[That wolf is raised by your companion, you say?]
Crisp, clean pronunciation. They understood him instantly.
[You speak our tongue well. By your face, you're no elf. Half-fey?]
[He looks human to me.]
The elves lowered their bows, still only half convinced.
"Spotty!"
Rhea crouched low and pulled the werewolf into her arms.
[She hugs it that easily? That wolf looks a fair sight bigger than she is.]
[Apparently it's never bitten her. The wolf seems quite tame with her, too.]
[Now I'm a little curious.]
[About what?]
[What our Captain would say if she saw this.]
[...Now that you mention it, I'm curious about that too.]
"M-Master Ahak. Those elves — are they hatching some kind of wicked scheme?"
A wicked scheme. Really.
"It seems they intend to summon their Captain. Their Captain — that would not be a Khan, I should think."
"A kkan?"
She was treading on dangerous ground.
"Please never say that word where anyone can hear you."
There had, in fact, been one race that actually pronounced Khan as kkan — the steppe goblins. Every last one of them had been exterminated at elven hands, without a single survivor.
Well, they weren't wiped out for calling it kkan specifically, but still.
In any case, caution cost nothing.
"Someone's coming."
"Ah — that must be the Captain, I expect. The only one in the Khan of the Wilderness's camp who'd be called that."
Ahak had a rough idea. The one who commanded the Keshik, most likely.
"She's surprisingly short."
A woman appeared, elves in tow. She was a small woman, hardly bigger than a girl.
Steppe elves are one of the taller races on average. So that woman... she can't be an elf.
Her skin and hair color don't look elven either. What about her ears? Ah — the tips are cropped off.
But Ahak was the Empire's foremost scholar of elves. He needed no glance at the tips — the earlobe alone was enough to distinguish an elf's ear.
A human.
[So the werewolf is real.]
The woman drew closer. She showed not the slightest fear of the werewolf's bright yellow eyes.
She was small, but her presence was extraordinary.
Spotty began barking furiously.
"What's gotten into you?"
Could he fail to sense the woman's strength? It wasn't like him at all.
"Why is it always when it matters that you have no instincts?"
[I see.]
[Captain?]
The woman gazed down at Spotty with calm eyes, then nodded.
[...She's trying to protect that girl.]
[Pardon?]
[Protecting her from us.]
Remarkable. I almost want to ask her how she does it.
The woman looked at Ahak and asked.
[You speak the elvish tongue?]
Speak it? He spoke it superbly. He could proudly claim to be the finest of anyone born in the Empire.
[Yes. That is so.]
[So it's true. Where are you from? You don't look steppe-born. An Imperial citizen?]
[I was born in the Empire, but I am no Imperial. I cast aside my homeland along with my name.]
A gleam of recognition crossed Ahor's eyes. She had done the very same thing.
[Your name?]
[Ahak. I am called Ahak.]
It was a rare name on the steppe. People almost never used the word for "reunion" in a person's name.
[Ahak? It couldn't be...]
The name was engraved in Ahor's memory. A few months ago, Vesta had asked Ashtien to find his old master.
A Khan couldn't personally mobilize over the search for a single man. So Ashtien had shared the intelligence with Ahor and entrusted the task to her.
I'd written it off as a half-failed mission. Who would have thought I'd pick up the trail in a place like this?
The name Ahak. The race of man. Superb command of elvish.
[Do you happen to know anything of a human boy who went by the name Vesta — or Besta?]
Besta, not Vesta?
Vesta was a name with a feminine lilt to it. Men rarely bore such a name — and a man named Besta was rarer still.
[Yes. I know it. It's the same name as a student of mine, once.]
[How old was this student?]
[I couldn't say. Not only did he never tell me — the boy himself didn't know his own age.]
Ahor nodded. There was no doubt about it.
[You are Vesta's master, then.]
"Eh...?"
"What? What did she say?"
Rhea, who had been edging closer and eavesdropping, asked. Naturally, he didn't answer. There was no room for it.
Ahak's mind raced at full speed. Yet no plausible answer came.
This woman. Wasn't she called the Captain? I thought she commanded the Keshik.
In terms of a kingdom, that would be a rank as high as Captain of the Royal Guard. Why would someone like that show deference to Ahak and Vesta?
[Vesta — how do you know of my student...?]
[You didn't know.]
Ahor did not soften the blow.
[He is now the betrothed of the Khan of the Wilderness. Her Highness Ergior Ashtien.]
"......"
"Why are you so shocked? What did that woman say?"
"That son of a—"
"Pardon?"
"His old, ailing master was wedged in among the orcs, scraping through days of misery — and he snatches up the spot of a Khan's betrothed for himself? And he never once came looking for me?"
That miserable wretch...!
"Are you... crying?"
Ahak trembled, unable to contain his rage. To anyone watching, it looked as though he were overcome with emotion.
Master and student must have been very close.
What a tremendous misreading it was.
[Please, come inside for now.]
"Vesta — no, where is that Baatar at the moment...?"
As for Vesta—
"It's been a while, warrior."
He was answering with a long, slow exhale of breath.
"Draw your sword."