Chapter 13: Siege of Buinyu Fortress (5)

‘There he is!’

Shatien was certain from long experience. The sound of a beast stepping and a person stepping were different. What they had just heard was, by anyone’s ears, something a person stepped on and snapped.

The scouts seemed to think the same.

They stifled their breathing and lowered their bodies close to the ground.

‘Where is it? Where are you, you bastard!’

In the murky silence, no further sound came.

It must have been something he stepped on by mistake. He seemed to have realized his error and paused.

‘I need to move fast.’

Thinking that, Shatien tapped the back of his hand twice.

As that very soft sound spread, every scout’s gaze snapped to Shatien.

Feeling their eyes, Shatien touched two fingers to his own eyes, then pointed toward where the sound had come from. After that, he wrapped his right thumb once with his palm and raised a single forefinger.

[This direction. Person. One.]

It was a sign language some scouts used. Veterans and scouts who understood Shatien’s motions were taken aback.

‘H-How does he know this?’

‘Do mercenary companies teach this stuff now? Our rookies still don’t know a thing. The comparison’s brutal.’

But they couldn’t keep being surprised. The scouts tried to converse in sign as well.

[How far?. Distance.]

[Don’t know. That way. Keep advancing.]

At that, the scouts, Shatien among them, quietly closed in on the source of the sound. Even as they moved, Shatien kept up the sign exchange.

[Halt.]

Following at the very rear, Shatien tapped the back of his hand lightly twice, then clenched a fist in the air.

He checked what he’d found, then signed again.

[Bread. Crumbs. Found.]

‘!’

Bread crumbs disappeared quickly. The fact they were still here meant the target could be nearby.

‘If this goes well, I might make a name for myself.’

‘His Lordship is generous with rewards. It might be hefty.’

Faces flushed, the scouts grew excited. If the man they caught had intel on the castle interior, it would be a massive haul.

‘They’ll freak out even more if they learn who we’re chasing.’

Of course, Shatien only smirked to himself at that.

–Swish swish

Either way, thanks to that, the hand signals flashing among the scouts sweeping the area got downright busy.

Another scout had found traces.

[Ground. Damp. Urine. Presumed.]

A veteran touched the wet patch briefly, then shook his head.

[Urine. Cold. Already left.]

But Shatien was puzzled.

For supposed urine, the smell was a little off. And if it had already gone cold, there was no way the scent should still be this strong.

He bent to the wet earth and brought it to his lips. The scouts frowned at the sight.

–Ptoo.

Shatien spat out the dirt he had tasted.

This wasn’t urine.

It smelled similar, but the taste was different.

[Not urine. Spoiled beer. Presumed.]

The scouts looked baffled. Why would spoiled beer suddenly show up?

[Why. Beer.]

[Dumped. Beer. Accident?]

Shatien shook his head.

[Decoy. Urine misread.]

–Ah!

Only then did the scouts let out low exclamations. They understood roughly what he meant.

The target had sensed the scouts and used spoiled beer to sow confusion.

Which meant he was still in the area.

Just then,

[Footprints. Found!]

A veteran had managed to spot prints. They were fresh, judging by how clean they looked.

They focused their eyes and followed the trail. The line of prints stretched on.

–Gulp.

Everyone was visibly excited. Watching them, Shatien signed again.

[Spread out. Encirclement. Proposal.]

They were close. If they quietly took positions on all sides and tightened the noose slowly, there would be no escape.

At Shatien’s proposal, the scouts hesitated.

[Risky. Escape.]

[Accept.]

[Agreed. Accept]

In the end, they put it to a quick vote on the spot, and by a single vote Shatien’s plan was adopted.

[Two left. Two right. Shatien and I head on.]

At the veteran’s order, the scouts fanned out left and right. They would keep narrowing the angles and bag the target in a ring.

[Slowly.]

Shatien and the scouts began to work their way, step by step, toward the most suspicious point.

‘Where are you hiding? It’s somewhere around here... Where are you?’

Sharpening every nerve in his body, Shatien awakened his senses. There was not a sound anywhere.

The man knew how to hide, and well.

‘Come on out. If you do, I’ll let you go easy.’

Shatien waited with slow patience. It had turned into a contest of endurance.

The tightening ring, step by step. The target would know.

If things continued like this, he would be taken sitting down.

Only one option remained. Pick a moment and bolt.

And soon after,

–Fwish!

Having decided, the man suddenly burst out straight toward Shatien. But luck wasn’t with him.

In the dark, his foot snagged a bush.

“Guaagh!”

–Thud.

With a squeal like a stuck pig, the man sprawled face-first at Shatien’s feet.

“Got you!”

“Son of a bitch!”

Ridiculous as it was, he’d ended up captured by Shatien.

It proved again that people had to live giving their all.

Truly.

* * *

“Stop! Are you carrying any kind of weapon? You must discard all weapons before you face His Excellency. Don’t try anything foolish.”

The moment Shatien reached the tent entrance, the sentry barked at him.

Taking a mercenary’s weapons, his very life, was absurd tyranny, but Shatien meekly handed his arms to the sentry.

“Proceed.”

Because he was on his way to meet someone very important.

–Gulp.

Tense to the core, Shatien went inside with the scouts and immediately gaped.

“Wow… what’s that on the ceiling?”

“You country bumpkin. It’s silk. Silk.”

“No, not that. I mean what color is it?”

“…I don’t know. How would I know that.”

He had never seen such opulence. Plush carpet spread across the floor, silver and gold tableware sat around the tent, and from the ceiling hung costly silk drapery like canopies.

So dazzled by the splendor, Shatien could forget the war for a brief moment.

‘Incredible. For the part of a battlefield to look like this… Then what’s their life like in peacetime?’

He couldn’t even guess. He was a mercenary who used cold rocks as a pillow and the sky as a roof.

He had never seen a great noble’s command tent before.

Even when they had captured Baron Buinyu’s fortress, he hadn’t gotten a look at the inner keep.

‘For Count Bellua, famed as poor, to be like this.’

The Marcher Count of Bellua bordered the Arhen Mountains and was reputed to be poor, with only barren lands.

If even he lived like this, how grand were the other nobles’ tents, and how luxurious were their daily lives?

Shatien couldn’t fathom the degree of extravagance the nobles enjoyed.

‘Could I… ever have things like this?’

A life that had never known such things, even up to the moment of his death. Even now, he sometimes longed for a simple white loaf.

‘If my family hadn’t fallen, I’d be living like this too, right?’

By his father’s words, he was descended from a great hero. And given the strange power he possessed now, his ancestor surely had been extraordinary.

He must have been a noble with immense wealth and honor. If the family line had endured, perhaps he’d be living like Count Bellua.

All he felt was regret.

While he was thinking that, Shatien and the scouts finally stood before Count Bellua.

The count sat at a great table in the center of the command tent, deep in conference with his retainers.

“The scouts present themselves to Your Excellency.”

“Mm, you’ve come?”

Count Bellua turned his head.

Catching the man’s eye by chance, Shatien marveled inwardly.

‘He’s young. Thirty five at most?’

He’d known it, but seeing him up close, he really was young.

‘Remarkable….’

Shatien gave a wry smile.

He knew Count Bellua had been a lord at fifteen, back then only a baron. Now he already held a count’s title, and later he would even rise to the rank of Margrave of the Kingdom of Ellang.

He was remarkable in every respect.

It was a stark contrast to himself, who had died around forty having achieved nothing.

‘Back then, I’d have griped about the limits of birth….’

Yet somehow, just facing this young count filled him with enormous motivation.

Shatien, himself… he felt as if he too could overcome every hardship and win and claim what he desired, like that young count.

“Hrmm….”

Perhaps having gathered his thoughts, the Marcher Count of Bellua looked at Shatien and spoke.

“Did you capture him? Personally?”

It was blunt.

And thanks to that, the greed buried deep in his heart stirred. In a fleeting instant, a thousand thoughts streaked through Shatien’s head.

Should he say yes?

And if so, what reward would be given. In truth, the scouts here were people he would likely never see again after this anyway.

He could be greedy and it would be fine.

However,

“No. We did it together. Without the scouts’ help, I wouldn’t have been able to capture him, Your Excellency.”

Shatien chose the path of solidarity. Any reward he might get here wouldn’t be of immediate great help to him anyway.

And this was Count Bellua.

No one knew what ties he might form with the count in days to come.

There was no reason to show the image of a petty, greed soaked mercenary before this noble and great lord.

So he chose to show a broader, more generous side.

And it seemed the plan worked rather well.

“Oh… is that so?”

He had drawn the count’s curiosity, hadn’t he.

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

Count Bellua, looking at Shatien, gave a sharp smile.

In fact, the count already knew the gist of events.

He had already interrogated the captive and heard the whole story.

Even if this mercenary had claimed he caught the man alone, the count had been ready to reward him without comment. But instead of showing the slightest regret, the man said they did it together.

A mercenary with no greed for money was as rare as a perfectly upright cleric.

All to the good.

It meant he was a mercenary worth keeping an eye on.

Thinking so, Count Bellua addressed the attendant at his side.

“You remember what I mentioned earlier? Bring six.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

A short while later, six leather pouches were set on a silver tray before Shatien and the scouts. The attendant handed them out one by one as rewards.

“Two gold coins each.”

Count Bellua watched quietly, then tossed out the words.

“Huh?”

“T-Two coins…?!”

It was a staggering sum. Enough money for an ordinary farmer to live idly for two years.

“Th-Thank you, Your Excellency!”

“No need for thanks. Off you go. We’re busy with much to do.”

At that, the scouts bellowed their assent and bowed their heads. In the face of money, a deep respect welled up from their hearts. Without even turning back, Count Bellua flicked his hand.

A gesture to get going.

Thanks to that, Shatien stuck out his lower lip.

‘Tsk, not as big hearted as I thought huh. We practically handed him a whole castle. I figured he’d tack on a bit more.’

He felt a lingering dissatisfaction.

Damn it!

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