X. The Battle of Schapendorf (6)
X. The Battle of Schapendorf (6)
The previous night, when darkness had painted the white northern night black.
Keldric sat quietly, stealing glances at Sir Rutger, who was warming himself by the fire.
Sir Rutger had said he wanted to talk, yet had remained silent ever since bringing Keldric to his tent.
Keldric eventually lost himself in the flames. The fire had been lit in a pit so it would not catch the tent, and the flickering orange light held his gaze.
"I first followed my father onto the battlefield when I was twelve."
It was Sir Rutger who finally broke the silence.
"When dawn broke, my father would come and wake me. There was no time to rest, he'd say."
"..."
"When I was twelve... the North was in turmoil."
Keldric listened in silence. As the night deepened, the fire within the tent burned ever brighter.
"As a knight's son, and as his squire, I could not defy the fate given to me. Nor did I wish to."
A man raised to be a knight could not escape that fate. Such was the order of the world.
The Empire's nobles and knights pointed swords at one another, fighting within the same borders for even one more span of land.
Land was forever being divided and passing from one hand to another. What resolve drove knights through such a harsh world was difficult to fathom.
All the more when the knight was as thoughtful as Sir Rutger.
"My first battle was at Kamnon. That was where I met your father... Sir Volfen."
Keldric's head snapped up from the fire. His father again. Another story about Sir Volfen.
Since leaving Carlton Village, Keldric had heard countless stories about Sir Volfen.
Baron Yaven had mentioned him, and Sir Werner the Crow had told Keldric about him as well.
'Sir Volfen was a fine knight. He was his family's only son, with no dispute over the succession, yet he chose to join a campaign he had no need to fight in.'
Sir Werner's words circled through Keldric's mind before fading into the distance.
They vanished like sparks leaping from the fire, leaving his thoughts more tangled than before.
Embers reflected in Sir Rutger's deep eyes as he watched Keldric.
"Sir Keldric, I know little about you, but there is one thing of which I am certain."
"What is it?"
"Your father was an excellent knight, and you are no less... No, you may be greater still."
Sir Rutger prodded the wood with a poker, sending dark sparks scattering into the cold air.
"I watched you fight today. You fought as though you knew no fear."
"Hm."
"It was the same impression I had when I first met Sir Volfen."
The more Keldric heard, the harder it became to understand. He recalled Sir Volfen as he had known him.
In his prime, Volfen had been vigorous and every inch a knight. Once illness took him, however, he wasted away until he looked half a corpse.
Sir Volfen had trained Keldric harshly and otherwise showed little interest in his daily life.
He doted on Hilmer and Fritz and grieved after Keldric's mother died.
Then there was the memory of Sir Volfen first teaching Keldric the sword.
'Grip it firmly. If you swing with brute strength alone, you'll ruin the blade in no time.'
'Yes, Father.'
'...Keldric. Once you hold a sword, do not regard me as your father.'
Keldric's hand had unconsciously come to rest on the longsword at his waist.
The pommel glittered in the firelight, reflecting a distorted image of his face.
'Do not regard me as your father.'
Sir Volfen had repeated those words almost by habit.
Even now, at eighteen, Keldric could never forget them.
Just as Volfen had demanded, Keldric still did not think of him as his father.
Sir Volfen might be his biological father, but Yakov was the man who had truly raised him.
"Sir Keldric, you are indeed Sir Volfen's son. You share his fearless spirit and his drive to climb ever higher."
"..."
"That may be why I find myself expecting even more from you."
Keldric nodded without answering.
Memories of Sir Volfen that he had set aside rose one after another, leaving his thoughts in turmoil.
"Sir Keldric."
Sir Rutger's hand came to rest on Keldric's shoulder.
The rough hand bore the marks of a man who had lived an equally harsh life.
"May I expect even more from you in tomorrow's battle?"
Keldric met Sir Rutger's gaze. Though they had known one another only briefly, he saw trust and expectation there.
The higher the expectation, the harder it became to satisfy—and the greater the disappointment if he failed.
"...Does it have to be done?"
"It does. If we are to win, it must be."
"Am I the only one who can do it?"
"Other than you... I cannot think of anyone."
But if it truly was something only Keldric could do—
"I'll do it."
Keldric had no intention of shirking. If someone else could step forward, there would be time to consider the choice.
But if only Keldric could do it, no substitute would be capable of the task.
"...Sir Volfen would be pleased."
Keldric felt no affection for his father. Competing with a dead man would gain him nothing.
But there was one thing he must never forget.
'There will always be things only I can do.'
Such tasks would inevitably exist.
Keldric would uphold the greater cause and walk his own path of chivalry.
He had no reason to refuse an act worthy of that chivalry.
"Then what do I need to do?"
Sir Rutger straightened. Gravity filled his cool gaze.
Keldric's expression hardened as well, and the air inside the warmed tent grew heavy.
"During tomorrow's mounted charge, I need you to take out the wizard immediately."
"By myself?"
"I'll be with you. When you charge, Sir Gerhard will surely come for you. I'll hold him off."
Keldric recalled the day's battle and estimated the wizard's position.
The wizard had stood some distance from camp behind a few crude palisade fences. They could weave around those barriers if necessary.
"And then?"
"After dealing with the wizard... we bring down Sir Gerhard, then strike their rear immediately. We must break them completely."
Sir Rutger drew the enemy and allied forces in the dirt with a stick.
"Once the knights open a breach, you and I will drive straight through to the wizard."
"Sir Rutger, what if they send men after our wizard?"
"Do not worry. Our wizard will be moving with us."
Moving with them? Keldric tilted his head. The plan contained more than one suspicious point.
But as Sir Rutger's stick continued moving across the dirt, Keldric's expression grew increasingly grim.
"Sir Keldric."
"This is..."
"Only you and the wizard can do it."
Sir Rutger tapped the knight and warhorse in his drawing. The knight was not riding alone.
"Please."
A second robed figure sat behind the roughly drawn knight.
Keldric and Alisa.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
"Alisa! Hold my waist tighter!"
"Aaaagh!!"
Alisa screamed strangely, but Keldric ignored it and concentrated on guiding Aveline.
Aveline galloped powerfully despite carrying both the already-heavy Keldric and Alisa. Aveline's strength and fine bloodline made the burden manageable.
Remaining mounted, however, was entirely the riders' responsibility.
Each of Aveline's long strides sent Alisa pitching violently up and down.
Alisa had no choice but to cling to Keldric's log-like waist. She needed all her strength merely to clasp her hands together.
The position pressed them scandalously close, but neither cared about that now.
"Wh-why?! Why do I have to—?! Aaaah!"
"Keep your head down! Press yourself against my back!"
"I'm trying!"
Shouts came from every direction. Inside his bucket-like helmet, Keldric's dilated dark-blue eyes darted constantly.
If Alisa remained in camp, Baron Gofrit's knights would become desperate to capture her.
Magic might be inefficient, but it remained an unpredictable weapon capable of slaughtering many people at range.
Yet they could not spare a knight solely to guard her.
Keldric and Sir Rutger would already be leaving the main battle briefly. Removing a third knight would endanger the main force.
Sir Rutger had reversed the problem.
Have Keldric, their strongest knight, carry Alisa with him.
That would prevent anyone from ambushing her.
The drawback was that Keldric had to protect Alisa while breaking through the enemy formation.
"Out of the way—!"
"A kn-knight!"
"Move!"
Yet even that proved manageable.
Baron Gofrit's men were already reeling from the knights' surprise charge. Forget counterattacking—the instinct to survive had driven away their fighting spirit.
Several veteran mercenaries struggled to rally a defense, but the knights rendered even that effort futile.
"Kill them all!"
"For the honor of Sir Tomar, the first to fall!"
Sir Henri and two other knights tore through the mercenaries.
Enemy knights finally came racing over, but they were far too late.
"Alisa!"
"Nngh! I-I'm ready!"
"Blast them now!"
Warmth flared behind Keldric.
Sparks streamed on the wind, and the presence behind him suddenly blazed with fierce light.
Alisa's murmuring tickled his ear. An unseen power followed her gestures and wound through the battlefield.
FWOOSH—!
And then, flames erupted.
Fire devoured friend and foe alike, but casting it at the heart of a dense enemy formation was another matter.
"Aaaagh!!"
"Roll in the snow!"
"Fire! Fire!"
Orange flames erupted throughout the formation.
Unlike her earlier spells from a distance, this one erupted at point-blank range, leaving the enemy no time to evade.
Flames burned throughout Baron Gofrit's formation, and the battle was already beginning to tilt.
The breach opened by the knights refused to close, and soldiers poured through it.
Then Alisa's point-blank magic erupted before anyone could escape, shattering the formation completely. Screams and shouts filled the field.
The chaos would subside once the opposing knights engaged, but that did not concern Keldric.
"Alisa! Hold tight!"
"Wh-what now—?!"
CRASH! CRUNCH!
Blood and steel sprayed as snow torn up by Aveline scattered on the north wind.
Pressed against Keldric's back, Alisa watched it all despite trembling with fear.
"Hngh!"
Boom!
Keldric's longsword swept in every direction. One approaching mercenary fell clutching his throat, while the chests of three or four spearmen were ripped open.
"Watch out!"
"Aaaah!"
Clang!
Sparks scattered, and Alisa squeezed her eyes shut. Her arms tightened around Keldric's waist.
A soldier had found the courage to thrust at Alisa's side.
Keldric's longsword knocked the spear away, and the anger in his eyes hardened into killing intent.
Thwack!
Reversed in his grip, the longsword served much like a mace.
Keldric struck the soldier who had targeted Alisa in the head with the pommel, killing him instantly.
"Eek..."
Alisa stared in horror at the head crushed inside its helmet. Regardless, Keldric charged onward.
Protecting Alisa, breaking through the soldiers, and killing every mercenary who approached—it was hell.
Because of Keldric's work, Aveline continued without obstruction.
Moving as though surrendered to the wild north wind, Aveline flowed between spear and blade without hesitation.
Before long, the mass of men thinned and an opening appeared.
'We're through!'
They had broken the formation completely. Along the path carved by Keldric and Sir Rutger, the enemy line had been split in half.
Sir Rutger spurred his mount alongside Keldric. Wiping blood from his helmet, he shouted.
"Sir! Over there!"
While driving Aveline through the chaos, Keldric followed Sir Rutger's pointing finger.
A familiar horned helm, and a massive frame.
It was Sir Gerhard, charging toward them while hurriedly straightening his askew helmet.
"Sir Rutger!"
"I'll take him!"
Sir Rutger kicked his mount forward to meet the charge, naturally drawing Sir Gerhard toward him.
Keldric could now focus entirely on his objective.
"The wizard!"
"Th-there he is!"
Alisa managed to point with a trembling hand. Keldric's blood-spattered helmet snapped toward it.
Ahead, halfway up a gently sloping hill—
The middle-aged wizard stood there in his robe.
Their eyes met. Keldric did not hesitate.
"Aveline! Let's go!"
Aveline dug into the ground, and the distance vanished in an instant.
Keldric surrendered himself wholly to the wind.
The wizard preparing a spell turned to flee. Three strides.
Several spearmen rushed to the wizard's side. Five strides.
Keldric lowered his longsword toward the ground. Ten strides.
After ten strides, Aveline carried Keldric directly before the wide-eyed wizard.
The wizard had a neatly groomed beard. Beneath the low hood, something glimmered faintly yellow...
'...Flame?'
Keldric's pupils widened even as he reflexively swept his longsword upward.
The fleeting glow on the wizard's forehead was an all-too-familiar flame emblem.
SLASH—!
But the longsword was already moving. It cut cleanly from the wizard's chest to his forehead.
Baron Gofrit's wizard died.
Hot blood gushed out as his body collapsed onto the cold snow.
"Alisa!"
"Y-yes!"
"Hold tight!"
"A-again?!"
Keldric wheeled around immediately and charged toward Sir Rutger.
Killing the wizard mattered, but it would be disastrous if Sir Rutger died or Sir Gerhard escaped unharmed.
"Aveline! Faster!"
Keldric had no intention of letting the victory already in his grasp slip away.
He would win.
That determination set his chest ablaze.