From Mercenary to King

Chapter 10: Siege of Buinyu Fortress (2)

“Oh! Jacri!”

When Centurion Jacri appeared, Centurion Jenga smiled brightly as he spoke.

By nature, crawfish sided with crabs.

Centurion Jenga firmly believed Centurion Jacri would take his side.

“Hey, that-that arrogant rookie insulted me. He says he has a right to my spoils. Punish that insolent brat right now!”

Centurion Jenga pointed a shaking finger at Shatien.

It was an ugly sight.

But Jenga was not the sort to reflect on how shabby he looked, and Jacri had no interest anyway.

“Hm… Is that so?”

“Yes, it is so! My friend. I said punish that rookie. If it’s hard for you, I’ll do it myself.”

“No, that won’t do.”

“What?”

“How can I pass judgment on your word alone? I need to hear Shatien as well.”

“What good is it to hear a rookie who doesn’t even have rights yet!”

Jenga shouted and blustered, but Centurion Jacri calmly asked Shatien a question.

“Did you make that claim as Centurion Jenga says, Shatien?”

“No. I never said such a thing, Centurion Jacri.”

Even as he spoke, Shatien tensed a little. People looked out for themselves. If Jacri took Jenga’s side, that would be troublesome.

But as expected, Jacri was a strict man of rules.

“So he says he did not. Centurion Jenga.”

“Wait, you’re telling me you believe that rookie over me?”

Jacri shook his head, face set hard.

“There’s something wrong in what you’re saying.”

“Ha! You crazy bastard.”

“First, Shatien isn’t a mere rookie. Captain Mordo already recognized him as a member of the company. Second, he acknowledged this achievement and gave him the rank of senior. Shatien can assert his rightful claims within the company, and I recognize that. I trust you, an old friend, but I also trust Shatien, who is in my centuria.”

After a brief look at Shatien, Jacri continued.

“Hm. Actually, now that I think about it, if your claims are this far apart, there’s only one way to settle it. What do you think?”

There was a time-honored way to divide truth.

A duel.

“W-What?”

At that, Jenga cried out as if it was absurd.

Shatien was surprised too.

He hadn’t imagined Jacri would take his side.

“Well? Will you do it? A duel? Now that I think of it, you never did fight very well. You are clever though.”

“Y-You!”

Jacri’s tone was mocking, but Jenga couldn’t bring himself to keep arguing.

Because it was true.

He had no thought of dueling a rookie reputed to fight well.

A mercenary valued money over honor, and life over money.

“Y-You! Shatien. Watch yourself. I’ll keep both eyes on you.”

In the end, Jenga spat the kind of line a third-rate back-alley thug would say, then turned his back and all but fled.

* * *

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping me, Centurion Jacri. Thanks to you, it ended without a big incident, and the misunderstanding is cleared up.”

At Shatien’s thanks, Jacri shook his head with his usual stern expression.

“I was wondering what you were thanking me for. You’re the one who needs to clear up a misunderstanding.”

“…Pardon?”

What was he talking about now?

What misunderstanding did I have to clear up? Jacri’s next words made Shatien understand his meaning.

“I only followed the rules. As I see it, Centurion Jenga was in the wrong. So there was nothing for me to take his side on. You’re now a full member of the company with the rank of senior, so of course you assert your rights and receive fair protection.”

“Ah, yes...”

The little goodwill that had sprouted vanished on its own.

“Oh, right! Before your appointment, you got into a quarrel with a centurion, didn’t you? Until I spoke, you were still a rookie, which makes that a lousy act. So it’s another week of pay docked.”

“…”

It was a conversation that made him think, this man truly was consistent.

Honestly...

He was such a stickler for rules.

* * *

There was a minor incident along the way, but time flew.

All maintenance and preparations were complete, and the army was finally ready to assault the castle of Baron Buinyu.

Soon after, Count Bellua ordered the army to move, and dozens of banners fluttered on the field before the baron’s walls.

– Purrrrr.

Massive warhorses snorted.

Spearheads flashing in the sun stabbed at the sky, and everyone from fully armored knights to shabby mercenaries in scrap mail stared tensely at the wall ahead.

The castle of Baron Buinyu.

With heavy support from the Holy Empire’s emperor, the baron’s castle had expanded its walls even recently, so it was too large to look like a mere baron’s keep.

The dizzying height of the walls seemed several meters high, and there was even a moat to block approach, which made it look vexing to attack.

The only consolation was that it was a flatland castle, not a mountain citadel.

“Sigh…”

Looking at Baron Buinyu’s castle, Shatien let out a long breath.

Memories from the past rose up, and he exhaled to loosen the tension.

“What. Why are you so tense? Haha. Our rookie. No, our senior… That sounds weird. I’m a senior too.”

“Ahem. You can just call me Shatien.”

“That lacks warmth and doesn’t roll off the tongue. Shatien!”

“But you are already good at it, Miles.”

They had accidentally become the same rank, but it made it easier to bicker like this.

The tension eased naturally.

Thinking so, Shatien looked toward the distant dais.

Count Bellua stood there with Captain Mordo and the commanders of each mercenary company.

‘Become one… was it?’

Remembering Count Bellua’s speech from days past, Shatien smiled faintly. He had thought it was cool at the time, but now it felt cheesy.

– Shiiing.

Meanwhile, Count Bellua on the dais drew his sword from his belt. The blade raised high caught and threw the sunlight.

Soon after.

“Become one and win! We will defend justice from a false emperor. We eat dinner inside those walls today! Chaaaarge!”

The same words from before boomed from Count Bellua’s lips.

– Waaaaaah—!

In answer, the shouts of their allies shook the earth.

It stirred the chest even if you stood still.

– Clench.

Calming his pounding heart, Shatien gripped the hilt hard.

He wanted to be like that too.

Like Count Bellua, commanding thousands from the highest platform.

Shatien prayed for the day he could meet Count Bellua’s gaze from the same height.

– Bwooooo.

As always, the grand war horn that heralded the opening of battle pounded the eardrums.

“Move quickly!”

“Forward with the designated units first! Your turn isn’t now.”

Keeping pace with the officers’ shouts, Shatien jogged with his comrades to their assigned position.

The centuria Shatien belonged to was the rear line.

The vanguard hauled siege ladders and fought, the middle went next to batter the gate with rams, and the rear pushed siege towers and delivered the final flourish of the assault.

There was still time.

Watching the centuria file forward in order, Shatien rested, then rose when noon passed.

“It’s our time!”

“Prepare the siege tower!”

The line split in two and a narrow path opened in the center.

The first and middle assaults had all ended in failure. Now it was the turn of the rear, the unit Shatien was with.

“Hup!”

On the order, Shatien braced against the siege tower and heaved the log with the centuria.

– Rumble!

The massive tower began to move slowly. As long as they kept to the narrow gap they opened, there was nothing blocking the way to the wall.

“Damn it. We aren’t slaves. What is this?”

“It’s better than climbing ladders. If you go up and fall, that’d be a sad death. Ugh...”

“Shut it and push it if you have the breath to talk! You bastards.”

Hearing the chatter, Miles roared.

– Creak, creak.

– Rumble.

No wonder they complained. The siege tower was monstrously heavy. Where it passed very slowly, deep grooves threatened to swallow ankles.

‘It’s too heavy. I will never get used to this.’

In past battles he had pushed many a siege tower, but this hideous weight never felt familiar.

Grumbling, Shatien looked up toward the top of the tower.

Count Bellua’s troops were waiting on the upper platform.

“Huff, huff…”

As they neared the wall, the mercenaries’ breathing grew rough.

There was a slope like a hill, so it took twice the effort. No one was joking anymore.

And that wasn’t the only thing tormenting them.

– Whsst, whsst!

– Whsst!

– Gah! Urk.

Arrows flew from the wall.

They weren’t many or accurate, but to poorly equipped mercenaries even that was deadly.

The unlucky got picked off and dropped where they stood.

The small comfort was that the top of the tower was suffering too.

“H-Huh?”

“Fire arrows!”

“Put it out! Put it out! Quickly!”

Pain was better when shared, so they said.

Fire arrows aimed at the tower struck the upper works.

The commotion among the count’s men above rang clear down here.

“Good grief, what a fuss.”

“Hey, they said they’re fire arrows, fire arrows.”

“Heh heh. They’ll be charred meat, those count’s men.”

– Blaze!

As if the words became a curse, a fierce blaze leapt up at the front of the tower.

The troops inside startled and panicked.

“The flames are too strong!”

“C-Commander, what should we do?”

“Stop fussing. Calm down and pour the water we prepared. Quickly! Dump it all!”

A sloshing sound followed, then a spray of water poured down from above.

“Damn it! What’s that smell? Is this rancid water?”

“It isn’t rancid. It’s piss. Your head’s soaked in piss, ya bastard.”

“Shut up, idiot.”

For whatever reason, they found this funny.

The mercenaries cackled over nonsense.

It was understandable.

You released battle tension like this. Childish as it was, without this kind of humor it was hard to keep your sanity in this hellish field.

While they traded their foolish lines for a moment,

– Screee, creak.

The siege tower suddenly lurched.

– Thud!

With a heavy thump, it would not budge no matter how hard they pushed.

‘We reached it!’

Yes.

At last the siege tower connected with the wall.

“Charge! Chaaaarge!”