Chapter 32: First Subjugation (3)
Chapter 32: First Subjugation (3)
A knight of Barsia spoke.
"The warhorses of other lands are mere beasts, but the Barsian warhorse knows the virtue of loyalty. Our noses forbid ambushes, and our eyes pierce even the darkness — all foes shall crumble beneath the hooves of Barsia!"
Proclaiming themselves the strongest.
A knight of Gord spoke.
"What's the big deal if you can't ride a horse worth a damn? Hurl an axe at a charging warhorse's skull and a knight presents himself right at your feet! If there's anyone who's split more knightly heads than us, let him step forward!"
Proclaiming themselves the strongest.
A knight of Roman spoke.
"Countless famed houses of swordsmanship have vanished into plague and war. But Roman is different. Not even a thousand years could strip our art from us. At the Roman Academy, we receive the teachings of the heroes from epics."
Proclaiming themselves the strongest.
A knight of Samur spoke.
"We are born in sandstorms, forged beneath the burning sun. Thirst and mirages are our allies; venomous vermin and quicksand, our servants. Where is the one who dares challenge Samur?"
Proclaiming themselves the strongest.
Knights from other lands, too, insisted that their own were supreme. Gather fellows like this together, and chaos was the only possible outcome.
"This is our chance to display Barsia's glory! Follow me!"
The knight, his squire and servants, and a handful of mercenaries marched proudly out of Bonyard. The banner of the bleeding rose fluttered.
"What's with those guys?"
Eugene was in the middle of discussing subjugation plans with the captain of the guard, who would serve as the nominal commander.
"Are they departing already? The main force hasn't even fully assembled yet."
"We cannot really control the knights. The moment Sir Derek heard that a detached bandit force had appeared nearby, he boldly rode out after it."
The captain of the guard gave a bitter smile.
"The Piranyan family, is it? The friend of that fellow who got his hand chopped off by Karas at the tavern."
"Yes. The Piranyan family is a harsh house. Even a vassal knight would be in an awkward position if he returned after suffering that kind of humiliation. He was apparently desperate to earn even a small distinction, because he rushed out the moment he heard."
The knights staying in the city would surely be a great help in subjugating the bandits. But there was no way to stop them from charging off on their own.
"Sir Derek will make short work of a handful of bandits and be back before long."
Setting aside his thuggishness, his combat prowess as a heavily-armed knight was indisputable. He would ruthlessly trample the sort of petty scattered troops that got separated from the main force.
But victory or defeat aside, the whole situation made Eugene feel suffocated.
'I had heard from my teacher about how primitive the chain of command here was, but...'
Men who brought their own troops exercising independent command was the mild part. Commanders on the same side had even fought duels over petty arguments.
"I feel sorry for you. Being stuck in the middle of all this must be a headache."
"I am used to it. Just knowing you understand is some comfort."
"If you need anything from me, just give the order. Tell me to fight and I will fight; tell me to hold and I will hold."
"An order? I could never! I will ask you respectfully, Sir."
The captain of the guard waved his hands in denial, his face full of surprise and gratitude. He had met many knights in this line of work, but never one like Eugene, even in his dreams.
'It's as if someone took only the good parts of a knight and a mercenary and blended them together.'
Somewhat irreverent, perhaps, but those were his honest inner thoughts.
The day of the subjugation arrived. Twenty dark elf skirmishers stood arrayed before Eugene, armed with curved swords, composite bows, and leather armor.
'This is the first time I've seen proper leather armor here.'
Leather armor was high-grade equipment, more expensive than one might expect and difficult to maintain. It suited elite soldiers built for mobility.
Most mercenaries preferred thick cloth armor reinforced with pieces of mail or iron plate. Those metal pieces were easy to attach and remove, so they frequently changed owners as battles were won and lost.
"I am Captain Rex. I have been ordered to follow your command, Sir Knight."
A male dark elf with cropped hair and a sword scar across his cheek spoke while standing rigidly at attention.
He wore a solid breastplate that looked to be of monster hide; the rest wore lamellar armor of beast-leather pieces laced together with cord.
"I look forward to working with you. I will fight without bringing shame to the name of a knight."
"We look forward to working with you as well, Sir Knight."
Because of the unsavory rumors, Eugene had anticipated arrogance or a frosty demeanor; they were surprisingly polite.
Step!
As Rex offered a military salute, the men behind him drew their feet together in unison and paid their respects.
Dark elves were an ill-fated people, fewer in number than elves and lacking even a territory to establish themselves within. Generations of harsh wanderings had made every member of their race an outstanding warrior.
"There is no need to slow your horse out of consideration for us. We can run through the forest for hours, so the All-Conquering Knight need not worry about leaving anyone behind."
"Just 'Sir Knight' is enough."
The intangible power of reputation was useful at times like this. Dark elves, notorious for being prickly even toward nobles, were treating Eugene with impeccable respect despite having only just met him.
"This is the mage, Varda-nim, who will support us."
The dark elves looked up at the elf on horseback with expressionless eyes.
"I look forward to working with you."
"It is reassuring to be accompanied by the renowned forest mage."
Rex's matter-of-fact tone made it seem the trouble Eugene had worried about would not arise.
'Now this is a proper army.'
They kept duty and private feelings separate, maintained strict discipline and drill, and trained themselves relentlessly. These were the first true soldiers Eugene had seen in this world.
Once introductions were finished, Eugene surveyed the staging ground.
"It feels like a mercenary fair."
"Given the city's location, they come from every direction. Some are probably here to make connections before heading abroad."
"So rather than heading into a foreign land with nothing, introductions from people you've fought shoulder to shoulder with are more reliable?"
"Exactly. Plenty of bastards will stab you in the back even then, though."
"Fascinating. Keep offering me counsel on such matters. I lack experience, you see."
"Leave it to me anytime."
Rex gave a small laugh.
Together, the city guard and mercenaries easily numbered more than five hundred. That was roughly equal to the confirmed bandit force, but the subjugation army had the advantage in equipment, combat ability, and morale.
Above all, there were five knights. Including Derek, who had already gone ahead, there were six, so everyone expected an easy victory. The mercenaries therefore welcomed new arrivals with little concern.
"Hey! I heard you'd gone to Roman. What are you doing here?"
"What do you think? A mercenary comes where the money is."
"Isn't this Vinson? That eyepatch really is something. But hey, didn't you have two eyes last time we parted?"
"Shut up! You son of a bitch!"
Those who knew one another waved, flipped each other off, and traded insults.
"Hey, kids! Did you come here to fight or to farm?"
"When it comes time to form the line, don't stand beside me. Or I'll kill you first, enemy be damned."
Whenever a poorly equipped new mercenary company arrived, jeers poured in from every direction, like inmates hazing fresh prisoners.
It couldn't be helped. On a battlefield where hundreds tangled and fought, the gear of the men who stood next to you mattered just as much.
Even if you held firm, the shabby fellow beside you might fall and leave your flank exposed. Would it not be maddening to take a spear or bolt through the gap because of him?
"Huh?"
"Those fellows came too?"
The mercenaries who had been jeering grew quiet.
A mercenary company of around thirty entered. They did not even have greaves, and their only edged weapons were daggers and hand axes. Many were still wearing ordinary clothes.
"The Collapse Mercenary Company. It seems those sent to Samur for negotiations managed them well."
Rex, who knew the mercenary trade well, explained who they were.
"The Collapse Mercenary Company? A peculiar name."
"If you see their banner, you will understand."
"Ah! So that's what it meant."
Their banner showed a human head caved in deeply enough to fit a plum.
The reason no one dared mock equipment worse than a peasant levy's was the slings hanging from their waists.
"Take one of their stones squarely and one of two things happens: you die, or you are crippled."
Samur was a place where desert and jungle coexisted, a bridgehead onto other continents. Because of this, there were many mercenaries who wielded peculiar weapons.
"If even you speak that highly of them, they must be pretty good."
"I have seen them fight. An enemy commander, a nobleman, took his helmet off for a moment and caught a stone to the head. It left him an idiot, so his twelve-year-old son had to attend the peace negotiations in his place."
"I am very glad they are on our side."
Eugene adjusted his helmet for no particular reason.
Only after every mercenary had arrived and the captain of the guard sent messengers did the knights finally crawl out one by one, as though they were the stars of the whole affair.
Wandering knights varied greatly depending on their family and their purse. Some traveled with only a squire, a slave, and one other servant, while others commanded more than ten followers.
Yet the attitude — holding their family banners high and looking down with arrogance on all around — that was exactly the same.
"The mercenaries may feel reassured, but the captain of the guard is going to suffer."
"I saw him before departure. He was smiling on the outside and crying on the inside."
Indeed, the captain of the guard was run ragged dealing with complaints flying in from all quarters.
"Hey, Mercenary Captain."
"I am the commander of the subjugation force right now, not a mercenary captain."
"Come on! We've known each other long enough. We're in the same line of work, so don't be so cold."
A mercenary captain testing him with a subtle power play was only the beginning.
"Come on, rotate us to another position. We were on the outside last time too. Let's rest comfortably on the inside this time, huh? Why are we always stuck on the perimeter?"
"Who the hell are you to butt in? We were here first!"
"Anyone with fewer than fifty men can shut the hell up."
"And just who are you to butt in?"
They hadn't even marched out yet, and already they were fighting over positions. Knowing how to avoid troublesome assignments mattered just as much as landing profitable work.
A captain who brought back defensive contracts was respected more than one who took siege work, while a captain who kept assigning his men to the outer watch got badmouthed behind his back.
A mercenary captain might swagger in front of his men, but out of their sight he had to hustle for work until his feet sweated.
"I'll rotate you whenever we move camp. For now, take the post!"
The captain of the guard bellowed. In Bonyard he had strutted around without envying nobles at all, but now he envied real nobles. One roar from them would have settled the whole mess.
The knights were even worse.
"Captain. Sir Osram has demanded two of our men be seconded to him as scouts. What shall we do?"
"Sir Kain has made off with a bag of the grain stockpiled for making porridge. He says he intends to use it as horse-feed."
"...Fucking hell."
He already knew how insolent knights could be, yet every time they found some new way to drive up his blood pressure.
And, true to wandering knights, they were good at staying just inside the line while causing trouble. Their demands never quite intruded on command authority, and the supplies they pilfered were always too little to justify a major confrontation.
If he made a major issue of it, the Executor would probably just reprimand him with something like, "Couldn't you have just put up with that much?"
"It's about time we headed..."
"Sir Derek has been taken down!"
Just as he finally got matters under control and prepared to march, grim news arrived. Derek, the dhampir knight, was dead. Only one of his men had returned alive, and even that man soon died of his wounds.
"A force led by a knight lost to some bandit detachment?"
The captain of the guard was dumbfounded.
"The numbers were similar, but they say a bandit knight was present. Sir Derek died in single combat against that man."
It was a disheartening way to begin, but the news did not break the army's morale. If anything, it fired up the knights.
"Captain! I do not need anything else. Just give me the exact location of that bandit knight! I will bring back his head myself, so do not you dare give anyone else the chance!"
The captain of the guard wanted to spit right in the face of the knight threatening him.
"I-I will do my best. Sir Galia."
'Damn bastard. Hope you step in shit.'
All he could do was say one thing aloud and another in his head.
"Do not try. Do it. I will avenge Sir Derek and restore justice in my name!"
Galia had not once exchanged a single word of conversation with Derek.
But dressing it up as vengeance for another knight would bring him greater honor. It would also put the Piranyan family slightly in his debt.
For the captain of the guard, it only added another pounding headache to the already miserable task of controlling this motley army.
"Sir Knight. Might I have a word?"
Rex spoke while watching the mercenaries marching at the front.
"Say whatever you need to."
"If you want military glory, it would be best to keep your armor on at all times."
"Any particular reason?"
"As you have probably guessed, those knights will be blind to everything else once they see an enemy."
Rex pointed to the knights swaggering beside their gaudy family banners.
"The moment they spot an enemy, they will charge without a thought for anything else, like mad dogs in heat."
"..."
Eugene was slightly taken aback that Rex would speak so freely about fellow knights right in front of one. The other dark elves were watching the knights with the same contempt.
"If you do not want them stealing all the glory, you need to stay ready to move at a moment's notice."
"It's fine. My job is to bring every one of you back alive, not to run wild like a mad dog."
Eugene repeated the exact words an old drill instructor had once told him.
"Understood."
With a peculiar expression, Rex bowed his head.
Compared to the Hall War, bandit-hunting was not a matter upon which tremendous glory hinged.
There were no monsters to skin for valuable hides and no nobles to ransom. Eugene figured that rather than throw himself zealously into work like this, he only needed to make sure he collected his basic pay.