Vol. 1: The Tactician and the Heiress: Chapter 10: The Distant Plains      Chapter 2: Prize or Artefact?

Rekka no Ken: Vol. 2: The Tactician and the Jewel

Chapter 1: A Lord’s Quest

Ceniro shifted nervously in the cushioned wooden seat. He was waiting with six or seven other men and one woman in the antechamber to a lord’s study, waiting to have an interview with the lord to see if he could gain another temporary position as a tactician. The other people waiting were all much older than he was by a matter of decades, and all were richly dressed. And the place itself – it was furnished with dark, rich furniture in this wing, and footmen had escorted each applicant to the chamber and escorted those who had completed their interview to another room – or to the door, if they didn’t meet the lord’s preferences. The young tactician felt completely out of place and wished he could shrink to invisibility.

“I don’t believe it!” cried a familiar voice from down the hall. “Is that you?”

Ceniro kept his gaze down humbly, uncertain the call was for him, until a light hand fell on his shoulder, and then he looked up, startled. “Erk?!” His voice sounded much too loud in the silent room, and he jumped self-consciously.

“What brings you here, my friend? Oh, well, the job, of course. How have you been?”

“Well enough; went sightseeing to Aquleia already and now running short on money, as always, and that’s why I’m applying for the job. How was your trip through Ostia?”

Erk, the violet-haired young mage – he was barely fifteen – frowned. “Like you, well enough. Serra was a bit more bearable, at first, anyway. The journey back was good, and now I’m well into my studies again. It’s amazing it’s only been three and a half months since we parted! Milady made me take another break so I came out here to see how it was going. I’m very happy to see you here. I’ve spoken highly of you at dinner since I’ve returned. Hopefully my master remembers your name.”

Ceniro smiled. “Why is that?”

“Well, Lord Pent is worse than I am when it comes to studying magic. When he’s focussing, even when he takes a break to eat, it’s difficult for non-magic things to catch his attention. It tries milady’s patience, but she and I are used to it now. He’s very nice, though. You’ll like him.”

“I’m glad. Thanks for the talk, Erk.”

“I hope you get the post, Ceniro. We’ll talk more later, in any case. Good luck!”

Erk bowed and left, leaving Ceniro a little more cheered. He had not known who Erk’s teacher was, and was now eagerly awaiting his meeting with him, even though the atmosphere emanating from the nobles was now a more pronounced disapproval. ‘What are you doing here, you scruffy little whippersnapper?’ their grave frowns seemed to say. Ceniro’s imagination gave them collectively the voice of one of the elders of his home village, the one always sighing about the youth of today and their foolish reckless wickedness. ‘You can’t possibly compete with the likes of us. Go back to your carpenter father and stop shaming the halls of Castle Wrigley!’

And then it was his turn, last of all, and with a slightly dry throat and clammy palms, he entered the study while one of the footmen held the door for him.

The lord behind the desk, the famed Lord Pent, Count Reglay, Mage General of Etruria, with long silver hair bound back in a loose ponytail and piercing grey eyes, looked up briefly from a large list on his desk. His desk was catastrophically covered with papers and parchments and books of all kinds, and Ceniro felt somehow set at ease.

Pent, having glanced up briefly, came back abruptly for another look. “So young,” he said softly, smiling. “How old are you…?”

“I’m nineteen years old, my lord. My name is Ceniro. I’m a tactician from Lycia.”

Pent sat back, indicating that Ceniro should sit in the comfortable chair in front of the desk. “Where in Lycia?”

“I was born in Araphen, but I’ve lived in Santaruz most of my life. I trained as a tactician under Lord Garlant, in Ostia. This summer I escorted the new Lady Lyndis from Sacae to Caelin to meet her grandfather and stop her grand-uncle from usurping the Marquess’ throne.”

“So you’re the one that Erk has been singing about,” Pent said, raising his eyebrows. “I heard about that, not just from Erk. It sounds like quite an adventure.”

“It was, sir,” replied Ceniro, shades of reminiscent enthusiasm buried in his non-committal reply.

“So,” said Pent, leaning forward and checking his list, then throwing it aside and picking up another piece of parchment, “you’d like to be my tactician for the next two or three weeks, or however long this job takes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, I just want to know a few more things and then we’ll see who gets the job, eh? First off, who would you say would be in charge?”

Ceniro nodded. “You, sir.” Pent’s eyes snapped back up. “I’m only the battle strategist. I would take care of everything to do with fighting and defence, but you are the one with the objective, sir. If I believe you are doing something to endanger the mission, I will tell you so, but there is frankly not much I can do to stop you even if I wanted to.” He shrugged comfortably.

“Well said,” Pent told him. “Next, how is your discretion?”

Ceniro thought. “I know I can be discreet, both in terms of information and in directing a group to move quietly through hostile territory. I’m afraid I can’t think of any examples I can give you off the top of my head, sir.”

“What kinds of terrain are you familiar with?”

“Well, for directing troops, mostly open plains and hills, sir, as well as the land around Ostia. In my personal experience… I’ve travelled extensively; I’ve walked all over Lycia and most of Etruria, and I was just getting around to Sacae and Bern when I met Ly- Lady Lyndis and took up her quest. After this, I’m planning to go to Ilia to see the mountains and the pegasus knights, and then after that… well, the rest of the continent.”

“You like travelling,” Pent observed, somewhat drily.

“I love travelling,” Ceniro corrected him. “The world is a very beautiful place and I’d like to see all of it before I die.”

“Good answer.” Pent leaned back again, fiddling with a quill pen. “Why do you want this job?”

“To be frank, sir, I’m running low on gold and I could really use a new pair of boots.” Pent smiled. “Other than that, your quest sounds like the kind that I most like – going out into the world to seek something. I’m personally not keen on castle-bound posts; they may have excellent pay and tenure, but they’re rather boring unless I’m working for a warmongering lord and I don’t want to do that. Or the neighbour of a warmongering lord, but I think they’re all too circumspect these days for that, sir.”

Pent snorted a laugh. “Amusing observation.” Ceniro flinched inside, hoping he hadn’t offended the count. “Nothing to do with Erk?”

Ceniro relaxed again. “No, sir. He didn’t tell me your name.”

Pent tossed the pen aside and made a steeple of his fingers, looking intently at Ceniro. “Last question – which, incidentally, you have partly already answered. Would it be possible to convince you to drop the formality, at least on occasion?”

Ceniro, blindsided, blinked a few times. “I-I suppose so. I would be honoured, really.”

Pent waved that aside. “Honoured? I’m only another man, and, honestly, it makes your job so much easier if you can feel comfortable around me, a count and a Sage. I noted that you called Lyndis ‘Lyn’.”

Ceniro’s cheeks flushed. “Well, I met her before she learned that she was the granddaughter of Lord Hausen, so I got into the habit of…”

Pent smiled and stood. “Well, I’ve decided. The others are all serious, pompous bores who have secret ambitions or who think I’m a loony scholar or think that because they’re older than me they don’t have to listen to me. It’s refreshing to talk to you. You’re hired.”

Ceniro stood as well, slightly flustered. “I- Thank you, L- uhhh, Pent.”

Pent laughed and reached out to shake his hand warmly. “I’m only surprised there weren’t more young up-and-comings. Erk tells me you’re something of a genius, the equal of those other lords, so it’s probably best that they didn’t come to be disappointed.”

Ceniro smiled.

Pent strode around the desk, calling for someone named Jerome. “Well, best send the others home politely. I’ll tell them I’ll contact the lucky one later tonight; that should sidestep any ruffled feathers. And of course, you must have dinner with Louise and Erk and me, so I will be contacting you later tonight! Everything will work out well, for this stage, at least.”

A footman entered the study, and Pent told him what to say to the other strategists. “While this young man is a friend of Erk’s as well, so put him up in a room, would you? Thanks, Jerome.”

“As milord wishes,” said Jerome, bowing and giving Ceniro a quick smile before disappearing.

“I’ll show you to the garden now,” said Pent,” where we’ll most likely find my wife and Erk, and our other guest at this moment.”

Ceniro soon found out that Castle Wrigley – which was really a glorified old manor house – was large, yet comfortable, and full of beautiful rooms but not many people. Besides Pent and his wife Louise, there lived in the house Erk, three footmen, the steward, seven maidservants, two gardeners, one cook, and a groom, and they were all familiar and friendly with each other. Others lived on the surrounding estate and village, and other people sometimes passed in and out, according to Erk, but on the whole it was a quiet, pleasant, retiring life the Count of Reglay seemed to lead. And of course he spent most of it on his studies of magic. Ceniro could only stare with his mouth hanging open for five minutes at the size of Pent’s main library the first time it was shown to him. He had never imagined that one person could own so many books. It rivalled the Ostian library. And then, Pent had various studies and laboratories scattered around the hall, a couple underground. Outside the manor was a huge garden filled at this time with vast quantities of flowers, pink, white, yellow, and then there was green ivy everywhere. Further back was a little orchard with an archery range so that Lady Louise could practice her archery, and small plots of vegetables nearby that.

Ceniro could see that compared to most nobles, Pent and Louise were absurd, even ridiculous, the beautiful and rich hall with gold and marble and velvet notwithstanding, but he liked and admired them as no other ‘aristocrats’, save Lyn and perhaps Elbert and Eliwood.

The other guest turned out to be a lovely young woman with hair the rich red colour of a rose and eyes green as rose leaves. She wore green velvet and white lace, and a white feather tucked behind her ear. Her name was Priscilla, and she was quiet and gentle.

“Lady Priscilla is staying with us for a time before returning to other friends in her homeland in Lycia,” Louise said. Louise herself was a stunningly beautiful woman dressed in plum velvet with golden hair, gentle grey eyes with violet lights, and a natural elegance to her carriage and movements. She made a good pair with Pent’s strong, firm self-assurance, and they were dearly devoted to each other.

“Now,” said Pent, after a couple hours had passed, “I think it’s time to get down to business for a short while. You know I’m planning to be gone on this expedition for three weeks, hopefully less. But I never told you where we were going, or what for.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “We’ll be heading to the mountains between Etruria and Lycia, where there is a mystical jewel hidden somewhere probably in a cave-temple. This jewel is written about in several very ancient tomes I’ve been reading recently.”

“He’s going to study it and see if those tomes are correct, fill in the gaps, fix errors, probably write his own book,” Erk put in.

“Exactly right. I expect the jewel to be heavily guarded, mostly by traps, but better safe than sorry, eh? That’s why I need you – and the others – rather than just going myself. Speaking of which, let’s go meet Castle Wrigley’s knights and decide who is coming, shall we?” Pent said, rising and smiling.

They, they being Pent, Louise, Erk, Priscilla, and Ceniro, went out to the front of the manor and turned right towards Pent’s barracks, the east wing of the castle. Lining up as the count strode towards them were four men in uniforms and armour, two white with yellow trim, one in white with navy trim, and one in black with red trim. There was also a pegasus knight with teal green hair, a white short dress, and very long blue boots.

“This is George, my captain,” said Pent, gesturing towards a tall, lean man with dark hair and a nine o’ clock shadow. “He’s a crack archer, and nearly as good as Louise.” Louise giggled and swatted Pent’s arm as George bowed, smiling.

“This is Cavven, his pupil, who’s training in swords and lances right now. He aspires to become a cavalier.” Cavven was an awkward, gangling boy with black hair and eyes, with promise of great muscle mass. “He’s a quick lad.”

“This is Yens, the second in command. He mainly uses the lance.” Yens was the one in white and navy armour, and looked very solid. His helmet prevented Ceniro from seeing much of his features.

“Last of my guards is Caddie. He’s an excellent axe man, very driven, very focussed.” Caddie was the guard in red and black clothing, with cropped brown hair and a cleft in his chin.

“And this is Lady Fiora, a pegasus knight from Ilia, whom I hired just yesterday as reinforcement.”

“Everyone, this is our new tactician, Ceniro. He’ll be selecting four of you to come with me tomorrow, and one of you to stay behind and guard the house with the regular soldiers.”

Ceniro looked down the line, and they all gazed steadily back at him. “Could I see you four spar, please?”

“Certainly,” George responded, tossing out wooden weapons and pairing the men up with a couple of quick barks.

“They’re all very strong, as you say,” Ceniro said a few minutes later. Cavven was lightening fast, but his attacks were reckless and wild. Caddie was spare of movement until his opponent left an opening, at which point he drove mercilessly. Yens would advance and retreat, pressing his enemy and then recouping his strength in an unpredictable pattern. George was dogged, working with steady strength at wearing down his partner. “I think… we will definitely need George and Caddie. Fio- Lady Fiora, too, to give us some extra flexibility and the potential to rescue injured companions. Of the other two… Well, mountains are usually bandit territory, so I think we’ll need Caddie’s axe more than Yens’ lance.” He glanced back at Pent, uncomfortable with making judgements of total strangers. Very strong total strangers.

“That sounds fine,” Pent said, gesturing to the men to take a break. “Yens, you’ll remain behind and assist Louise and Bran – my steward,” he added in an aside to Ceniro. “If there is an emergency, all the remaining forces are at your disposal and discretion. I will be in touch, so feel free to discuss any problems with me when I’m available.”

Yens bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

“George, Cavven, Caddie, Lady Fiora, I will need you tomorrow at first light. See you later, gentlemen!”

“Lord Pent,” spoke up Priscilla, “I would like to come too. You have only yourself to heal the injured, but if I came, I could certainly help and let you attend to more important matters.”

“Absolutely not,” Pent said, shaking his silver head until his ponytail whipped back and forth. “You’re to make it back to Ostia without incident, and this certainly counts as incident whether it is very dangerous or only mildly dangerous.”

“Please, milord. I’m not afraid, and I trust Sir- I mean, Ceniro. He had healers and other non-combatants in his last journey, persons who could have simply left and continued upon their much less-dangerous journeys at any time. I have a horse. I can keep out of the way.”

“I can watch over her,” said the pegasus knight unexpectedly. “I assume we’ll be double bunking in tents, and if she shares a tent with me it will be perfectly fine, and as we both ride horses – albeit mine has wings – I can easily keep an eye on her from the air and warn her of danger which she can then escape.”

Pent looked out of the corner of his eye at his tactician. “Do you think this a good idea?”

Ceniro thought with a hand resting on his cheek. “I don’t think she will be a burden and it would certainly be helpful to have another healing staff.”

The lord dropped his pretend-hunted look. “Well, I can see you’re all arrayed against me, even you, Louise, so I’ll give in. I still think this is utterly foolish, but who am I to deny extra help? Erk, are you coming too?”

“No, master. I have much to do.” Erk waved a medium-sized book entitled “General Compositional Theory of Anima Magic, Volume Three”.

“Louise?”

“You know what I would do, Lord Pent, but I shall bow to your wishes this time. That representative I must meet with next week can’t be delayed, anyway.”

Pent put an arm around his wife and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I’m glad. Next time, I promise, you can come with me and continue fulfilling your vow. This time I’m just happy to keep you out of danger over such a silly thing – that could change the world.”

After dinner in the ‘informal’ dining room (which was still an elegant room, only much smaller than the ‘formal’ dining room), there was an impromptu concert with several of the servants and Priscilla participating. Neither Pent nor Louise played – she, no talent; he, no time – but they were both lovers of music and well educated in it.

And at last, though still relatively early in the evening, Ceniro was shown to a room small compared to the rest of the house but much larger than he had ever been used to, even in Caelin. It had a cozy feeling, and the bed was incredibly soft and soothing. The young tactician fell asleep the second after he fell into it.

The next morning, they indeed set out at first light. Lord Pent kissed Lady Louise goodbye in the gate to his castle, and set off with a firm stride, Ceniro walking close at his side. Next came the knight Fiora, and Priscilla, and last came the three Reglay soldiers, with the packhorse. They would buy fresh supplies while they could and save the horse some trouble until they got into the mountains.

They had walked steadily for some hours, with a short break for lunch, when Fiora caught sight of stealthy movement by the side of the road. They had not even left the Reglay lands.

“Louise, is that you?” Pent called to the bushes. “Come out, now.”

Silence fell, with crickets chirping in the warm autumn air. Pent glanced at Ceniro with the slightest hint of a confused frown, and Ceniro nodded sharply to the soldiers who took a firmer grip on their weapons and drew closer to Priscilla and the two in front.

They waited for perhaps five minutes, but nothing more moved.

“Well, we can’t wait forever to find out what that was. Perhaps it was nothing to worry about,” said Ceniro at last. “We should move on.”

And just as Cavven stepped forward, an arrow whizzed across the road in front of him. He stopped short with a brief cry of surprise as George lunged forward and grabbed him.

“Spread out!” Ceniro cried. “Fiora, Priscilla, get into the trees to the left where you’re harder to hit now! George, Cavven, go with them! Pent, Caddie, into the right!”

“Split up?” Pent asked, diving through the shallow ditch at the side of the road.

“That warning arrow might be a decoy,” Ceniro responded. “If it isn’t, Fiora will be safer. If it is, those three, with Priscilla backing them up, will be able to take care of themselves, especially if it’s what I think it is.”

An axeman leapt out in front of them, pulling back for a wild swing at Ceniro. Caddie was quicker, and Ceniro turned away fast, feeling his stomach flip-flop. He hadn’t seen death since he left Caelin and already he had forgotten his stoicism against its horror.

“Bandits in Reglay,” Pent hissed in disgust. “I thought I had sent them packing eight years ago.”

“What’s it like over there?” Ceniro called to the other group as Pent sent a golden lightening bolt down on the original archer with a flick of his wrist.

“Not good!” came George’s voice. “Crude lancemen!”

“Cavven, cross to our side. Caddie, go help them out. Look out, Pent!” The count looked up in time to see and duck another axe flying through the air. Then out of nowhere, Cavven’s skinny body came crashing through the bushes and his slim sword cut through the thug who had thrown the axe.

“Good job, Cav,” Pent told the boy, dusting himself off and sending sudden shards of ice at an archer in a tree. Cavven grinned and threw himself at another man with an axe.

This one struck his head with the flat of his axe, and Cavven was sent flying into a tree. Ceniro was instantly at his side. The boy was unconscious but otherwise unhurt.

“You’re Pent?” the big axeman grunted.

“And you would be?” the count responded cordially.

“Name’s not important. What’s important is that you’re surrounded, with most of your group away yonder and one boy out cold and the other armed with a little stick.”

“I’m more than a match for all of you,” Pent said, smiling as if truly amused.

The brigand cocked an eye at the sun. “Well, if you think so, man. I’m to tell you to abandon your quest for that gem, awright? You do that, and we don’t hurt anyone else.”

“What makes you think that even with all your provisions I would do such a thing as that?”

The brigand’s grin turned ugly. “Then we cut down your boys behind your back, and whether you go down or not right away, you’ll go down eventually. Lord Pent.”

Ceniro suddenly swung his staff in a desperate move to counter the haft of the axe heading in his direction. He countered it with enough strength that he saved himself from getting bisected, but he couldn’t hold it back for long and there was another on its way and another heading for Cavven –

There was a bright flash of light, and the man aiming at Cavven dropped back, smoking and sparking.

“I don’t think so,” Pent replied to the enemy leader with deadly quiet. The bandit with his axe locked with Ceniro’s staff dropped back, rubbing his eyes, and the one swinging his axe at him missed and fell on him bodily, knocking him heavily and half-blinded to the ground on top of Cavven’s body.

Then ice began to creep up the legs of the three thugs, and formed a sheath on their weapons until they dropped them, cursing. The air was shimmering around Pent, as Ceniro’s eyes cleared.

Suddenly an arrow struck one thug, a lance skewered another, and an axe took care of the third. A blue healing glow surrounded the recovering Cavven as Ceniro scrambled up to coordinate the final movements.

Caddie and Fiora quickly took care of the remaining underlings while Cavven jumped up, ready to face the enemy again. Priscilla and her mare hovered, looking every which way to avoid being targeted and ready to help if necessary. Pent cast his lightening spell again, but the bandit leader was faster than he looked and managed to dodge. George managed to strike him in the arm, and then Cavven sprang on him when he was distracted.

As they cleaned their weapons – or, in Pent’s case, dusted himself off again – Ceniro looked at the bandit leader. “Strange. He doesn’t look like anyone of particular intelligence… just a brute. How is it that he knew?”

Pent looked troubled. “I don’t know. I only told a few people that I was setting out at all, and fewer what I was looking for. I think I will have to get in touch with some of them. I trust them all, but one of them may have clues as to how this got out. Also that I was setting off so early. But we should keep moving.”

“Yes, we should be out of Reglay by noon tomorrow,” Ceniro agreed.

At camp that night, while the other set up three tents – one for Pent and Ceniro, one for the women, and one for the soldiers – Pent got out a peculiar little staff.

“It’s safer than using pigeons, anyway,” he said to his tactician. “I’ll contact home first.”

A wavering cloud appeared in the air above the staff’s head, and moments later, Erk’s face appeared in it. “Lord Pent! How has your day been?”

“Peculiar,” Pent replied. “We have already been ambushed once by common brigands who knew of the quest and its objective. But that is not important; I’m going to contact Douglas later about that and see if he can help unravel that mystery. We have really just walked all day and are now setting up camp. How are you all?” Ceniro could hear George telling Cavven not to charge in so hastily; next time he might get more than a knock on the head.

Erk chased his dark frown away with a small smile. “We are all fine, thank you. Lady Louise practiced archery as usual, and then did some reading and embroidery. I read Chapter Twelve several times, and I believe I have the main concepts down well. I also received a letter from that little girl I met in Aquleia, Cecilia. She says General Douglas, coincidentally, has taken her under his care and sponsored her for preliminary training in magical and conventional healing. She’s very excited about that, though she has also met someone at court who frightens her. She says she has told General Douglas’s two other pupils, so she has no real worries about that. Other than that, it’s been a quiet day as usual as well. Would you like to speak with Lady Louise now?”

Pent smiled. “Please.”

A few minutes later, after conversing privately with his wife, Pent dispelled the staff and recast the enchantment.

This time, a man with a brown beard and purple robes appeared. “Pent! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“An unfortunate circumstance sadly, Douglas. I set out today, and mid-afternoon we were ambushed by common brigands who knew of the quest and its objective. I can’t do much from here, and neither can Louise from Castle Wrigley, and Erk is no good at that sort of thing; not that either my wife or I is much better! I want you to see if you can find out who leaked that information, who could have hired those bandits, who else knows about my journey, that sort of thing.”

The general reached up to stroke his beard. “Strange… It’s not like the court usually pays much attention to the majority of your doings not directly connected to them, despite your being the Mage General.”

“I know. So who could have perked up their ears this time?”

“How much did you tell the tacticians you interviewed, and those mercenaries? Oh, by the way, who is your tactician?”

Pent reached out and dragged Ceniro to stand beside him. “Here he is; Ceniro of Lycia. He’s young, I know, but Erk knows him, and apparently he orchestrated the success of that whole Caelin affair earlier this summer. He did well in the short battle today, and I think he’ll turn out very well. As for the others, I think I told them nothing. The announcements just said I was looking for a tactician and soldiers for a journey about three weeks long.”

Douglas frowned some more. “I shall look into this, Pent. I suspect this may be more serious even than it looks, just by the nature of your journey. Pleased to meet you, Sir Ceniro.”

He bowed; Ceniro hastily followed suit, and the cloud vanished.

Pent looked around and nodded at his tactician. “Let’s get some sleep.”

“Right,” Ceniro replied. “Caddie, you have first watch; Fiora, you have second. Good night, everyone.”

Vol. 1: The Tactician and the Heiress: Chapter 10: The Distant Plains     Chapter 2: Prize or Artefact?