Chapter 152: The Thousand-Year Grand Plan (1)
Chapter 152: The Thousand-Year Grand Plan (1)
When Eugene gave a glance, his subordinates removed the ropes.
"Eugene of House Meyer. I am the commander of the left wing in this battle."
In truth, no introduction was necessary. Everyone, including the count and the nobles, had seen him rampage across the battlefield.
Above all, there was Might. Like a crown symbolizing a king, this monstrous warhorse was a symbol in itself, a proof of identity that verified the army's commander.
"My lord. You must speak..."
"His Excellency Giovanni."
When no reply came, the Sicilian nobles pressed their liege. Since the other party had shown goodwill, they ought to respond. Apart from holding the power of life and death, it was a matter of respect for the victor.
"I am Count Giovanni, the rightful ruler of Sicily."
The count spoke, biting his lip.
"It is regrettable that we meet this way."
"If that were the case, you shouldn't have attacked us in the first place, should you? You became the Order's d... sword and smashed everything to bits, and now what?!"
The count had been about to say "the Order's dog" but barely corrected himself. He had lived high and mighty like a king on this island, but now his neck was practically halfway into the noose.
"Then you shouldn't have given cause. The Black Hand Tribe under my protection nearly suffered mass death because of pirates."
At the mention of the pirates who were the root of all the trouble, the captured vassals frowned. Their suppressed anger was directed not at Eugene but at the count.
"Don't think about running. I know all about you trading maps and supplies and even handling stolen goods. It's quite impressive. You probably aren't even that intimate with your spouse."
"Damn it."
The count muttered under his breath. If it were only the false charge of heretical worship, he could protest all he wanted, but colluding with pirates had evidence that was far too clear.
At that moment, beastkin servants and maids emerged from the castle. They carried trays laden with large water pitchers and glass goblets.
"It's been a noisy day, hasn't it? You must all be terribly thirsty. Wet your throats first."
Glug, glug.
At the fragrance of white wine filling the goblets with golden light, the nobles licked their parched lips. They had fled in a daze after a crushing defeat on the battlefield, and their condition was a mess.
There was no need to decline such hospitality. Whether winning or losing, it was only natural for nobles to host and be hosted.
All around, goblets were tilted back.
Gulp, gulp.
The sound of swallowing echoed loudly here and there. The nobles' eyes trembled at the first pleasure they had tasted after a day of hardship.
Due to the limitations of preservation techniques, the standard wine of this era was red wine. To taste white wine, which oxidizes easily, in its unspoiled state was a difficult matter even for a king.
The nobles could never have imagined they would taste a luxury hard to enjoy even on their own estates, let alone on a battlefield like this.
"Would you like more?"
"Th-thank you."
Eugene personally brought the bottle and poured for a noble who was holding an empty glass with a regretful look.
The nobles were no fools. They had already calculated the fate that awaited the count. And that the knight before them, who had led a mighty army here, would rise as the new ruler of the island.
"May I also have another glass?"
"As much as you like."
As a result, the nobles split into factions: those who licked their lips and watched for cues, and those who willingly held out their glasses. The latter were clearly the more martial types.
Meanwhile, the main force and the reserves talked among themselves about their respective victories. Most of it was exchanging congratulations, but a little trouble also arose.
"Mother, you came out too?"
"When my daughter-in-law goes out to fight, would I sit still at home?"
"But you weren't even a mobilization target."
"Don't you remember me riding a horse and shooting arrows last week to hunt meat to feed my grandchildren? I think I caught more than you did."
A bewildered young man and a middle-aged woman with her hands on her hips. One could feel an age difference that clearly marked them as mother and son.
However, that was not because of wrinkles. True to their reputed renown as a beautiful race, dark elves did not wither mournfully like humans.
It felt like a brilliantly bloomed crimson rose had matured richly into a violet black rose.
Like a mother's velvet coat hanging neatly in a wardrobe. The fabric was fine, and a calming fragrance seemed to waft gently from it.
Her eyes held countless stories. Even standing beside a sturdy fellow with a belly thicker than her own, she did not look like someone to be embraced, but rather one who would be better suited to embrace him.
'Is this what it means to age gracefully?'
Given the nature of her tribe, she must have seen much sunlight and endured many hardships, yet an elf was an elf indeed.
"To mobilize the elderly and women as well. Just what did those Apostolic Council bastards promise you?"
Count Sicily tremblingly looked around his empty glass. The count had also mobilized conscripts, but they had been strictly centered on young and middle-aged men.
Glug, glug.
Eugene smiled gently and refilled the count's glass with white wine.
"Doesn't it look wonderful? With families all gathered, it feels more like a festival than a battlefield. And you must have felt on your skin that each and every one of them is a splendid warrior."
"..."
Count Sicily shut his mouth. Indeed, the combat power of those who had sortied from the castle had been fierce.
Knowing full well what it meant to be taken prisoner here, the count and his vassals had resisted fiercely but were subdued in an instant.
In the blink of an eye, they were surrounded, took arrows from every direction, and then the dwarven shield formation charged, turning them to powder.
"Count. Do not judge by your standard of leading a flock of sheep. Somewhere in the world, there is a shepherd who leads lions. When you threaten the pride, everyone except the cubs charges out. Young or old, their claws and teeth are sharp. Sharp enough to tear through a wolf with ease."
The life of the dark elves within the Wandering Castle was like an everlasting family reunion.
Countless elders, uncles, aunts on both sides, siblings, and cousins constantly interacted.
Because it was a prolific culture, it was not an uncommon sight for sisters who had become mothers to nurse their nieces and nephews in their stead.
The children learned letters and etiquette from their grandparents from a young age. Thanks to that, they were also the only mercenary company whose every member could read.
From their mothers and aunts, they learned love and how to manage a household; from their fathers and uncles, how to fight and be brave.
A large family.
In Eugene's eyes, the Black Hand Tribe was the one that had refined that concept most brilliantly and beautifully in the world.
"Aren't they truly dazzling?"
"All I see are a bunch of murder-hungry lunatics."
Eugene paid no mind to Count Sicily's spiteful words.
"Oh dear. When you get to know them, they're so full of charm and adorable."
"You're insane."
The gaze Eugene cast upon the Black Hand Tribe was warm beyond measure.
[The longer they stay, the more their fate will be bound to us.]
Those were the words the Wandering Castle had once whispered to Eugene. But just as the dark elves were bound to the castle, so too was Eugene becoming captivated by them.
-Grandfather!
-Hohoho. If you pounce on me like that, Grandpa will hurt his back.
-Ugh!
-Our new daughter-in-law has such terrible morning sickness.
-I-it's okay, Mother. I'm much better after taking the medicine Kanna made. She's been diligently learning from Varda-nim to become a witch.
-We greet the Castle Lord!
-Sorry to intrude. I was just passing by and it looked so joyful, I couldn't help but look...
-Not at all! If you don't mind, would you come in for a moment? We'll serve you our Paulson family's tea, a tradition five hundred years old.
-Oh!
-And while we're at it, if you could kindly bestow a name upon our youngest grandchild... hohoho!
Recalling a joyful memory, Eugene raised his glass of white wine toward his army.
The harmonious daily life he encountered every day within the castle. He hoped it would continue to surround him in the future.
The Sicilian expedition was the second step to solidify that.
"Count. I hold no personal feelings. But for me and my beloved family, you must now exit history. Just as you pursued profit by joining hands with pirates, I have merely joined hands with the Orders."
Eugene loaded the struggling Count Sicily onto a prisoner transport carriage.
* * *
"It certainly seems the gods' favor is assured. For this expedition, and for your safety as well, Sir."
The expedition force commander, Kain, smiled in satisfaction at the sight of the captured count.
Even though the bandages wrapped all over his body were soaked through with blood, he did not care, so pleased was he with the achievement before his eyes.
"What will become of the count?"
"He will be taken to New Canaan to face a religious trial. Whatever the verdict, he will never set foot on this island again."
"What of his family? I understand he has two daughters."
"They will be sent to a convent after taking an oath before the gods to renounce their rights of succession."
As befitted the Apostolic Council, a coalition of multiple religious orders, it had a variety of options in such matters.
"Since you are a noble as well, Sir Eugene, you will understand. If one is born a noble and has lived all one's life as one, the responsibilities of the house cannot simply be avoided."
"Considering the blood shed by the people of the Peninsula, it is a merciful treatment."
Given his collusion with pirates and the false charge of heretical worship, Eugene had expected a harsh punishment, yet the sentence was surprisingly moderate.
Perhaps reading Eugene's expression, Kain gave a bitter smile.
"What happens when you carve out new land and merely swing your power without leniency? We have learned that lesson well. Because in the past, we recaptured a holy land in the east but could not hold it and were driven out. We will not repeat that mistake twice."
"That is a wise judgment. Otherwise, rebellions would break out everywhere."
As an interfaith council, the Apostolic Council had experienced many different kinds of failure. Thanks to that, it was far more strategic than Eugene's vague image of a medieval religious organization.
"Then what remains is dealing with the remnants."
They had crushed the enemy's main force and captured their leader and high-ranking nobles, but it was not over.
Those who were watching for signs had to be appeased, and the loyalists who would resist to the end had to be brought down, even if it meant laying siege.
"The Apostolic Council is organizing additional reinforcements. There are so many volunteers that we have to be selective."
Now that the greatest threat had been shattered, what remained was closer to the tiresome work of pulling weeds. Besides, many were dead — the Mercenary Commander who had led the right wing, and nobles among them.
The danger was slight, yet the fruit was sweet, so those wishing to take part were not few in number.
* * *
Thus, Count Sicily was sent under guard across the sea. But the captured nobles belonged to Eugene.
Envoys flocked to pay their ransoms. As they gathered in groups of three or five and traveled, they discussed the future ahead.
"The count's main castle will be ruled by a newly dispatched bishop-count, they say. But the real power..."
Anyone who was not a fool could tell it was Eugene. He was a far greater object of caution than a churchman who would be rotated out when his term ended.
"You mean that Mercenary Commander fellow who is about to become a viscount?"
"Watch your tongue. What if someone hears?"
When a noble of a merchant house grumbled, a noble of a knightly house soothed him.
Besides those who had come to pay ransoms, there were also those who had come to pay their respects and establish friendly acquaintance with the new conqueror. If those others tattled, they would be in great trouble.
"Did I say anything false? A knight without so much as a title has brought mercenaries here and is about to swallow the whole island, isn't he? Does it not gall you to see ancient Sicily occupied by a band of thieves?"
"You say that only because you were not on the battlefield."
"Are you insulting me now?"
In that macho noble society, the merchant house noble's rancor at being subtly looked down upon made coarse words burst forth.
"Am I wrong? Frankly, I dislike hearing you make a noise when you have never once swung a sword at the count's side."
"Coming from a man who fled in a fluster while the count was being captured, what..."
The two nobles bristled and began to quarrel.
"Had you seen that knight fight, you would never say such a thing! You should have seen the black storm that raged with every sweep of his arm! The valiant knights were scattered in every direction like fallen leaves in an autumn gale... Ah!"
"Oh..."
Their dispute ceased at the sight of the enormous castle that revealed its shape in the distance. Every other envoy nearby was staring with mouths agape as well.
"It truly is a castle?"
"I thought the talk of the garrison's tents being huge was an exaggeration."
"Heavens! How can such a heap of stone move, I ask you?"
"..."
The merchant noble who had been cursing Eugene only moments before shut his mouth.
It was a castle of magic, towering upon the desolate earth like a mirage. As he beheld it, the words "Mercenary Commander of no lineage" would no longer emerge from him.
It was akin to the legend of the hero who pulled a holy sword from a lake and was acknowledged as king. That vast castle bestowed upon its master the authority and legitimacy of a sovereign.
"Welcome."
Eugene received them all with hospitality.
He had anticipated hostile reactions, as he was an invader, but most of them entered with their eyes wide open, glancing this way and that. It was because wonder had swallowed every other emotion.
Varda laughed while covering her mouth.
"What did I tell you? Strip them bare and they are no different from commoners, nobles. That is why they cling to such things as blue blood, intricate ceremony, and aristocratic speech."
"In some ways, they seem weaker before mystery than anyone. More so than peasants or mercenaries, it appears."
Among the envoys, there were also those who had come bearing gifts.
"There are pirate dens, you say?"
"Here. There may also be stolen goods they were unable to sell hidden inside."
One envoy pointed with his hand to several spots on a map.
"I am grateful, but why tell me? Do you not hate me?"
"It was an eyesore, the pirates, the smugglers, all manner of scum coming and going in this land. Even when I gave honest counsel, the count only ignored it..."
Nobles of upright character came out favorably to Eugene in their private audiences. They were already furious about the pirates, and even more so about the foreign Eastern Empire being drawn in.
"So that is why they were recruiting so many cooks at Messana Port..."
"Because when the tongue is content, conversation flows smoothly. Is it not best to treat them in the manner they know?"
The cuisine laid out in the banquet hall was similar to what he had eaten in Tripol, Samur. The details differed, though: oysters were cooked thoroughly before eating, and there were squid dishes, among other things.
Among the various dishes, Varda was particularly fond of the pasta.
"You turn it round and round like so."
"This is rather amusing."
Varda, winding the noodles around her fork, laughed with a little chuckle.
"If you wind up too much, it will be hard to fit in one bite, will it not?"
"Ah!"
The forks used in this age had two tines, but those set upon the banquet table had four. Eugene had Walker and his disciples prepare them.
"Still, is it truly acceptable for me to sit beside you? At such a formal occasion..."
Sitting beside Eugene, Varda looked around as if she felt somewhat burdened.
The beastkin maidservants serving them, the guards, and the centurions seated with them all wore expressions that said it was only natural.
But the invited nobles of Sicily, brimming with curiosity, stole glances at Varda from every side.
"She is every bit the astonishing beauty they said she was. Small wonder King Roman was so desperate to invite her, and not only for her skill."
"Yet the Castle Lord remains unwed, I hear."
Whenever that murmuring reached her, her long ears gave a twitch.
"Henceforth, when I am absent, Varda-nim will have to handle important affairs and receive outsiders. To do that, she needs to show her face early and often."
In Eugene's command, there were many who could be trusted for loyalty and strength. But when it came to dealing with nobles, there was none he could entrust with peace of mind more than Varda.
"When I left the Emerald Forest, I never imagined I would one day bear such a role."
"Dear me. I must have failed to properly show you my ambition and trust back then."
"Th-That is not what I meant."
"The food will grow cold. Please, eat."
"...Yes."
Once the banquet's mood had fully ripened, Eugene spoke with the envoys one by one.
"The Mantra family, is it not?"
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"I am no Excellency yet — I still hold no title."
"What matter is that, when you will soon stand as one of the pillars of this land? What is more, this castle itself is a title unto itself. The name 'the last treasure of the Ancient Kingdom' is indeed most apt. I truly feel my eyes have been opened this day."
"I'm simply glad to be welcomed so warmly. I remain unwed, but when I do hold my wedding someday, I'll be sure to invite your house."
"My thanks! We shall attend without fail and adorn the occasion, however humbly!"
The law of first-come, first-served held true everywhere.
Even the envoys who had been staring with expressions that said 'Ah, must we really?' gradually began to show urgency in their faces.
"The Arlington family, yes?"
"It is an honor that you know of us."
A man with a sword scar on his cheek rose to his feet. Each envoy wore the arms of his house pinned upon his breast.
The head of the Arlington family had barely succeeded in escaping, but the vassal knights who had bought him time had been captured.
"I have heard yours is a knightly house of considerable repute in Sicily."
"Compared with Your Excellency's far-reaching fame—Castle Lord, no, Your Excellency—I can only be ashamed."
"Pray, make no show of modesty. It was a banner that caught my eye plainly in this battle. You fought valiantly."
At Eugene's gesture, a dark elf maidservant brought forth a blade and sheath, polished clean and borne upon silk. It was the sword the head of Arlington had let fall — a house treasure and a dwarf-made masterwork blade.
"Take it. I return it in praise of your house's valor."
"...My thanks."
The Arlington knight received the sword with great care.
The envoys of the knightly houses, already favorably inclined, nodded with deeply moved faces.
They had been tense, expecting a conqueror from haughty Roman, but he proved far more magnanimous than they had imagined and a lord who understood honor.
As the atmosphere ripened, the wines of the Morad family, saved precisely for this moment, were poured forth freely, and the banquet was brought to a successful close.
* * *
"You are exceedingly skilled at this. It must be your first such experience."
"Because I have no need to govern the whole island. I need only properly manage the three cities that fall to my share. What difficulty could there be when I do not need to embrace the entire nobility?"
The hard thing was getting everyone to go round and round together; when one could choose and concentrate, the story grew simple.
Especially since the knightly houses had come out so favorably, using them to work through the relationships made things proceed easily.
However, not everything proceeded without a hitch.
"An envoy of surrender has also come from the city of Phileremo. But it seems the city of Kitania intends to resist."
It was a port city built beneath a volcano in the southeast of the island of Sicily.
"That is where the count's younger brother had been posted as acting lord. They say he was the one who handled the trade in goods and slaves plundered by the pirates."
While Eugene had been circling the banquet hall, Varda had also been speaking with various nobles and gathering information.
"He has cause to stake his life on resistance, then."
Now as then, middle managers suffered harsher punishments than those high above.
What was more, this man did not even hold a title as Count Sicily had, yet he had dirtied his hands the most. If the Apostolic Council seized him and put him on trial, his chances of surviving were low.
"I was just beginning to want to go my own way, so this is well-timed."
Staying on good terms with the Apostolic Council could do no harm, but clinging too closely to it was troublesome as well.
Now, just when he wished to act at a distance from them, a siege upon a city that would fall to Eugene was a perfectly suited pretext.
"Castle Lord! Leave it to us!"
Rex shouted, beating his chest.
"What do pointy-ears even know of siege warfare?"
Rampage beat his own chest all the harder, as if refusing to be outdone.
"We have taken more than ten castles. Do not class us with those pale-skinned weaklings. And Duncan Castle — we took that in but a single week."
"Ah, that one was famous. The way you set fire to the forest behind it and assaulted the keep while the defenders choked on the smoke."
"Do not lump us together with those fools who tremble at a single tree."
Eugene, who had been about to step in, merely shrugged his shoulders at the sight of the two races making peace on their own.
End
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