Arslan Senki

On January 3, Arslan and Rajendra parted ways and headed north towards the mountains. Rajendra had agreed to all of Arslan's requests, with some reluctance.

During the march, Arslan and Narsus rode side by side. Arslan used this time to ask Narsus for some advice on the ways of kings.

"There was once a brave king."

Narsus began with these words.

That king had once led a campaign with 50,000 soldiers. After crossing the country's snowy mountains, with constant warfare, the food ran out and the soldiers began to starve. The king wept as he watched the soldiers suffer, so he distributed his own food to the soldiers.

"Your Highness, what do you think of this king's behavior?"

Arslan did not know how to answer for a moment, because judging from Narsus’s expression and tone of voice, he had a negative opinion of this king. However, Arslan was not sure what the reason was. He answered honestly anyway.

"I think he is a great king. Isn't it a rare act to see soldiers suffer and share one's own food with them? Narsus's opinion doesn't seem to be the same, though."

Narsus smiled and nodded.

"Your Highness answered honestly even though he saw what I was thinking. So, I'll be honest and say what I think too! I think this king is not qualified to be a king, even though he is a humble man."

"Why ……?"

"This king has two major flaws. The first is that he left his soldiers to starve by not planning ahead the need for enough food for 50,000 soldiers. The second was that he was only able to give his own food to a small number of the men to eat, and most of the other soldiers were still starving just the same."

"……"

"That is to say, this king was, first, a foolish man, and second, acted unfairly. Moreover, he wanted to give food to a small number of people in order to deny his own fault, and to avoid the responsibility of starving many soldiers. This is his cowardice. Does Your Highness understand?"

"I think I do."

Arslan replied as he thought.

"That is to say, someone who is a king cannot let the soldiers starve. If the soldiers are allowed to starve, there is no way to fight at all."

"That's right. Only the person who can acquire enough food for 50,000 soldiers is qualified to command 50,000 soldiers. As for the use of soldiers and martial valor in battle, that is a lesson for later……"

Their steady march lasted for about two days. When the men would stop to rest on the mountain path, Narsus took out paper and brushes to paint the landscape, however, he did not let any see his work except Elam.

"Narsus's talent for painting is certainly unquestionable. I would like Narsus to paint my portrait!"

Hearing these words, Daryun could not help but look down at Alfreed's face.

"You really don’t know any fear!"

However, Elam, who was the most frequent witness of Narsus’s paintings, had this to say.

"If Lord Narsus’s genius extended to painting as well, he’d be unbearable. It’s best that he remains mediocre at something."

"…… That doesn't sound like a compliment!"

Farangis commented seriously.

Arslan also felt that since Narsus was to be the future court painter, he also wanted to know of his painting skills. On the other hand, he felt that as long as Narsus could paint, it was enough, and it was not a question of whether he could paint well or not. Although Arslan admired the wisdom of Narsus, he did not have any illusions about his talent.

Prince Gadhevi, who was in the capital of Sindhura, was in a very favorable position. In fact, few were so fortunate as to have his opponents send him the plan of future actions, two at a time. Both Rajendra and Prince Arslan of Pars had each sent secret envoys to send the other side's plan.

"What do they want?"

Gadhevi felt confused. Any normal person must have been puzzled. First of all, he sent his own men out to investigate and confirmed that the enemy's forces had split into two units, but it was hard to say what was to come, and he really didn't know how much credibility the information sent by the enemy itself had. The generals were also divided in their opinions.

"We should crush Parsian army first. Their strength is only about 10,000, and without reinforcements, Rajendra's sharpness will surely take a great hit. Despite how elite the Parsian army is, as long as we use our troops to overwhelm them ……"

"No, it is better to pour our army's full strength to crush Prince Rajendra's main force first. In this way, the Parsian army will be like a tree with severed roots, and it will naturally wither without felling it. We should fight Rajendra first!"

"But what if the Parsian army suddenly attacks the capital while we are fighting Rajendra's army? The cavalry of the Parsian army is unmatched by the neighboring countries in terms of speed. It would be better to deal with them first."

"Why don't we just stay put and observe the other side's movement first? They are coming for the capital anyway."

"But, if we do that, won't all the areas outside the national capital be ravaged by Rajendra's cavalry? The total number of our army is 180,000, while Rajendra's army and Pars's army together is only 60,000, so it's not right to hide in the city for fear of an enemy that is much less in number than us. No, perhaps this will be the enemy's way."

The discussion was not conclusive. Every opinion was reasonable, and Prince Gadhevi did not know which one to listen to.

"Mahendra, why don't we divide our army into three groups? One group to defend the capital, one group to attack Rajendra's own group, and another group to crush the Parsian army. What do you think?"

"Your Highness, please don't joke around!"

Mahendra, the object of the prince's negotiation, looked at his son-in-law with an unpleasant gaze, his white turban and black triangular beard extremely impressive, a middle-aged man with a robust physique, more style and vigor than either Gadhevi or Rajendra. He had been in charge of the country's government as hereditary chancellor for twenty years. The wars with the country of Pars were often reactive, but he had an extraordinary track record in all sectors, including domestic affairs, diplomacy, and the military, for which he had made a name for himself.

"If the troops are divided three ways, the advantage we have in terms of strength will not be effective. Absolutely no troops should be scattered. Strength is only called strength when it is concentrated."

Mahendra said with certainty in his tone, and Gadhevi agreed with him that he was right, yet the question was where should this force be concentrated? He was well aware that his half-brother Rajendra was a cautious and meticulous man.

"A minimum number of troops must be placed in the national capital at all times. The rest of the forces will be concentrated and deployed in one place, so that the forces will be directed toward the necessary places when called upon. Food and weapons should also be concentrated at that location."

"I see. Mahendra, you are a man who can be called a wise man! It it is really a blessing for me to call you a vizier and a father-in-law. As long as you are there, will that guy Rajendra be able to hold Sindhura's fate in the palm of his hand so easily?"

Gadhevi heartily praised his father-in-law.

Mahendra's daughter Salima was a beautiful woman who was known as the "illegitimate child of the goddess of beauty, Lakshmi" and had numerous suitors, including Rajendra. Gadhevi was chosen as her fiancé, not only by Salima's own choice, but also by Mahendra's decision. Mahendra was also his benefactor in terms of affection.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for your praise, I am deeply grateful."

Mahendra put on a heart-stoppingly flattering attitude, his face in a trusting smile. If his son-in-law became king, as the father of the princess, his position and power would be reinforced.

"In addition to that, I have already had a man infiltrate Rajendra’s army camp. He is an extremely intelligent person, and I believe that good news will come back soon. Just please wait for this auspicious news with peace of mind, Your Highness!"

The calm voice of the hereditary chancellor reassured Gadhevi.

While the Parsian army marched along the mountain path, Arslan again asked Narsus for advice regarding the current situation.

"…… In that case, Prince Rajendra is intentionally using the Parsian army. That's what Narsus thinks, right?"

"Yes. However, we will never let him get what he wants."

"Why?"

"If our army fights with Gadhevi’s army, it is the Parsian army that will make a name for itself, not Rajendra. And from his standpoint, in order to become king of Sindhura, he must make a name for himself to do so."

Gieve, who was riding beside them, gave a malicious smile.

"That is to say, as soon as we win one battle, Rajendra will begin to act because he must obtain his own merit. Isn't that so, Lord Tactician?"

"Yes, and not only that, but Prince Gadhevi in the capital must not be able to sink his teeth into it either."

Originally, both princes showed extreme opposition in desire and antipathy. The military success of Pars' army must have angered them. Pars' victory in the recent battle was not just a mere partial victory, but also affected the fate of Sindhura as a whole.

The man Rajendra sent as a guide to the Parsian army was named Jaswant. He had tan skin and dark eyes, was about the same age as Gieve, and gave a sense of panther-like sharpness. He also had knowledge of the Parsian language. So far, he has done his job as a guide, but Arslan's men have yet to fully trust him.

"That man must be quite competent with a sword!"

At one point, just watching Jaswant's movements, Daryun murmured, and Narsus rubbed his chin as if nothing had happened.

"If you feel that way, then it must be true."

"Perhaps he is an assassin sent by the other side!"

Daryun lowered his voice. He was afraid that Jaswant could be an assassin whom Rajendra had ordered to sneak in disguised as a guide to assassinate Arslan. Narsus agreed with his close friend.

"It is very possible. But another possibility occurs to me."

"Which is?"

"The possibility that Rajendra threw a danger to him onto us."

    Having said that, Narsus fell into silence and seemed to be carefully organizing his thoughts.