Chapter 201 - What Is He Counting On? (1)

“Well, um, I want to be under you.”

The white-haired Beastman spoke outside the quarters on a breezy summer evening. “Under?”

At his question, Dunbachel chose her words carefully. Really, what did it matter what became of her now? “A slave, a personal servant, anything. I'll do whatever you want as long as you let me stay under you.” Where Frogs were blinded by personal achievements or desires, Beastmen went mad over two words: making babies. So what she had just said was open to misunderstanding. “It's a big continent, you know?”

That was Encrid's roundabout way of saying he wouldn't stop her from leaving, but she answered, “As long as you let me stay under you.”

Dunbachel knelt. He could see the crown of her head and her unkempt, greasy hair. She smelled foul. Looking at her, Encrid's first thought was that he wanted to wash and rest. So what should he do with her? It wasn't really something that required much thought. If she intended to join them only to stab him in the back... 'Could she even manage that?'

Somehow, he felt Jaxon would slit her throat before she got the chance. Just a feeling. A feeling. In fact, it didn't have to be Jaxon. Rem or any of the others would beat Dunbachel to death the moment she showed signs of treachery. Fortunately, he saw no such malice in her. Sparing her had been something of a whim. There had been no deeper meaning behind it. So... 'If there's no malice...' It occurred to Encrid that a squad consisted of ten people. A platoon usually had forty to fifty, while commanding a company meant being responsible for a hundred to two hundred. 'But my unit has...' Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, Audin, and Pin. Six, including himself. Wasn't that far too many? So many he wanted to check whether Marcus's conscience was still where it belonged. 'If you're going to make me a Company Commander, you should give me more men.' Of course, few would survive. As if that bastard Rem would leave them alone. Andrew came to mind for no particular reason. Since him, Pin had been the only newcomer. In conclusion, the company was short on people, and Dunbachel was a better fighter than an ordinary soldier. Judging by her current attitude, she was even obedient. An obedient Beastman was a rarity. If he had to pick one clear point out of those tangled thoughts:

'Short on personnel.'

He could seek the Battalion Commander's permission later. If the man said it wouldn't work, he could dismiss her then. “All right.” “I'll swear to Krimhalt. Though an oath from someone who's been cast out might not be believable... Huh?” “Come in. We have spare beds. Wash first, though.” To Dunbachel, it seemed a remarkably generous decision. He hadn't shown any sign of deliberating. 'Had he meant to take me in all along?' She even found herself thinking that. No, that wasn't it. There had been several moments when it wouldn't have mattered if she died. No, when it wouldn't have mattered if he killed her. Yet he had released her instead. He was a man who kept his word. “You'll need my commanding officer's permission to join the unit officially. If he refuses, there's nothing I can do.” 'I'm in.'

Hearing Encrid's words, Dunbachel was certain she wouldn't be refused. If she were a commanding officer with a man like him under her, she would nod her approval even if he kept ten personal servants. Who would refuse? “And don't even think about serving me in bed or any of that. I'm not interested. You're joining as a soldier. If you want to serve under me, pick up a weapon and fight. If you get killed fighting, that's that.” Encrid said no more. He opened the barracks door and went inside. Dunbachel stood rooted to the spot, hesitating. She had wanted this, but acting on that desire had taken courage. She had longed for it, but accepting that it had come true required still greater courage. Was she really allowed to step inside? 'Someone like me?' She had been certain he would refuse. That was why she hesitated. As she lingered, the closed door swung open. “Aren't you coming?” Beyond the open door were black hair and blue eyes. Beautiful wasn't a word she would normally use for a man, but his face was beautiful. Moonlight spilled from the blue of his resolute eyes and shattered against his cheeks. Standing outside barracks utterly devoid of romance, Dunbachel felt close to tears. Why? What did the reason matter? It was simply that no one had ever welcomed her before. He was the first person to invite her in without an ulterior motive. “I'm coming.”

Her voice trembled. Dunbachel stepped inside. They said opportunities came in life, and that a turning point was needed too. Dunbachel thought meeting that man was hers. Even if the others rejected her, she would endure it. Even if everyone shunned and cursed her, she would bear it. “I'm genuinely curious.”

As she entered, she saw an orange-haired woman. The woman was looking at Encrid, continuing to speak. “You actually like being called Irresistible, don't you? Is that why you bring a woman back every time you go out?” HISSS! A panther beside her even hissed. Dunbachel flinched at the sound, and Rem spoke from beside her. “It's fine. This panther hardly ever bites. Oh, except that bastard Big-eyes. So leave it alone, and it won't bite.” Why was there a panther in the barracks? Dunbachel wondered, then abandoned the thought. Besides, the atmosphere wasn't as hostile as she'd expected. “Stop talking nonsense and take her to wash. She stinks.”

With that, Encrid turned to sorting out his belongings. He gathered thin linen clothes, apparently planning to wash himself. Meanwhile, the orange-haired woman approached. “You don't have a change of clothes, do you? Will they give us any this late? I'll ask in your name, Captain, all right?” “You think that'll get you any?” “You think it won't?” Pin spoke cheerfully and headed out. It was late evening, promising to be a bright, moonlit night. Once she'd brought Dunbachel outside, she asked, “What's your name?” “Dunbachel.” “I'm Pin.” She held out a hand to shake. According to ancient lore, a handshake was a way to show that neither person held a weapon or intended harm. These days, it could also express a wish to become good friends. When Dunbachel grasped her hand, Pin smiled and asked, “So, how long has it been since you washed?” “Hmm, half a year?” Beastmen didn't enjoy baths. “Let's walk a little farther apart.” Pin led her to the baths, and Dunbachel lowered herself into a tub without complaint. The water turned black. From outside, Pin called that she was leaving the clothes there. Dunbachel scrubbed herself vigorously with soap. Encrid seemed to dislike bad smells. After washing and changing, she returned to the quarters. The way wasn't hard to find. Perhaps because she'd washed for the first time in so long, her body felt lighter. “... Is that what you looked like?”

Encrid asked as she entered. “Why? Has something changed?” Dunbachel glanced down at herself: a shirt pushed out by her full breasts, and loose trousers. Did the clothes make her look different? “Never mind. That's your bed over there. Get some sleep. And make sure you wear underwear.” Why bother with something so annoying? Dunbachel thought, but she nodded. Encrid waved a hand vaguely toward one side. That was her place. And so Dunbachel became a member of the Independent Company. No one brought up the fact that she had been an enemy, or a member of Black Blade. No, even when they did mention it, they neither doubted her nor pushed her away. Why? She didn't know herself.

* * *

The atmosphere throughout the military camp was utterly frigid, but Encrid remained the same. He rose and trained. After the Isolation Technique, he watched Pin getting beaten for a while. “So this is all Ail Karaz-style martial arts amount to, Sister.” Audin and his hellish mouth were as consistent as ever. A vein bulged on Pin's forehead. After working up a drenching sweat that morning, Encrid gulped water into his stomach and spread butter and orange marmalade over soft bread. “Where did you get this again?”

He asked after taking a bite. The marmalade was superb. Sweet and tangy. Beside him, Krais finished chewing, swallowed his bread, and said, “A shop opened across from the seasoned jerky place. The woman has dull brown hair, lots of freckles, and she's twenty-six. Her name is Juri. No boyfriend. Her ideal man is somewhere between you and Ragna, Captain. She absolutely hates my type.” Encrid looked at him, wondering why he was going into such detail. “I know all the important people in the city. That's the Gilfin Guild's job.” Was it? And did someone who made good marmalade, or fruit jam, count as an important person? “She's important. You've tasted it. You know.” Fair enough. As Encrid ate, Krais began chattering beside him. “Things like this will keep happening.” “Like what?” “I mean our neighbors aren't going to leave Border Guard alone.” Encrid stopped halfway to his feet and looked at Krais. Krais's large eyes strayed toward Dunbachel. She sat motionless, staring blankly into space. He would have to find something for her to do, too. When he turned his attention back to Krais, the man continued. “By holding off Aspen, the kingdom expanded its territory. That means Border Guard can be both a military city housing a standing army and the main trading hub of northern Naurilia. That's what it's becoming now.” Trading companies had been visiting more frequently lately, and new goods kept arriving. The city's population had grown too. “Juri tells me you have to make marmalade in large batches. But if it doesn't all sell, storing it is difficult. Fortunately, with more people coming and going, her jam practically sold itself.” That was why she had opened a marmalade shop. What made a business viable? The size of the population and the number of people passing through. Encrid had come to know that as common sense, thanks to Krais bringing it up whenever he was bored. “So how do you think our neighbors see Border Guard?” “Like a nicely roasted piece of meat, or a ripe tomato.” With a knife in hand, ready to eat, all they had to do was slide the blade in. That was Border Guard's position. It looked like a roast browned to perfection, tempting enough to cut into even if the meat proved a little tough. How would it look to the hungry? They would want to carve off the flesh and eat it at once. Things would improve somewhat if the Pioneer Village Encrid had saved grew and expanded the trade routes. But for now... 'The hub of northern trade.'

According to Krais, that was Border Guard's position. “That's why we never run out of packs of jackals prowling around.” “How long have you been expecting this?” “Well, I've had a bad feeling since we pushed Aspen back.” If he'd known since then... had Marcus known too? The man had started that glib talk about loving the city as soon as Encrid returned. The Battalion Commander had known the city was in danger. Then he should know how to get it out of danger, too. It was nearly time for the meeting. “I'm off.” “Let's protect the seasoned jerky and marmalade, Captain.”

Krais called after him. It didn't sound crazy. Those two foods were rather precious to Encrid as well. The Battalion Commander's office had already become a meeting room. A map lay spread over a large table, covered with objects resembling chess pieces. “Have we determined their numbers?” “We're sending scouts every hour. From what we've seen so far, we estimate at least two infantry Battalions.” “That's a lot.”

Marcus wore a rueful smile, but he didn't look frightened. He definitely had something he was counting on. But was this the right moment to bring it up? All the Company Commanders were gathered here. Encrid quietly took a place beside Marcus. “Something to say?” “My company has fewer than ten members.” And what do you want me to do about it?

His eyes said it all. The Battalion Commander had no conscience. Surely a company had to be staffed before its commander could really be a Company Commander. “May I add someone? The Beastman we captured earlier.” Her former affiliation was the Black Blade Bandits. He had only just returned from slitting the throat of a bandit suspected of being a spy, and now he wanted to spare another and take her under his command. Come to think of it, he still needed to discuss the noble bandit whose head they had so casually lopped off. “Go ahead.” 'That's it?'

Was that really all? “Speak to the quartermaster about her assignment and the details.” That really was it. Marcus turned away as if there was nothing more to say. Encrid looked around, wondering whether another Company Commander might object, but none of them cared. No, the Fairy Company Commander alone mouthed, “Seduced another woman?” Fairy humor. He ignored it. He listened to the meeting for a while. They discussed the enemy's formation, where to fight, their numbers, and the main elements of their force. “Martai may field cavalry. We have none.” All the horses in Border Guard's stables would probably add up to about fifty. A few were kept ready for urgent messengers. But cavalry was another matter. Apart from a handful, they were all packhorses. There was a saying that an untrained unit was a blade aimed at one's own chest. In other words, they might have to face mounted soldiers on a battlefield without cavalry of their own. “Border defense captain, reporting back.” The border defense captain returned in the midst of the military council. What followed was all as expected: they had attacked Black Blade's main force. But one unexpected story was mixed in. The defense captain abruptly addressed Encrid. “Well done. I hear some of the Black Blade Bandits attacked Vice Baron Vancento before we arrived. You lost your charge when the baron suddenly fled. Losing the man you were escorting cannot count as distinguished service, but you did well to stand your ground afterward, slaughter some of Black Blade's skirmishers, and return alive.” His delivery was theatrical. On hearing it, Marcus slammed a fist onto the desk with a thud. Several markers distinguishing friend from foe toppled with a clatter and rolled across the map. “Murdering a noble! How dare they! Those Black Blade bastards!” Marcus gave an excellent performance. “That is why we punished them immediately. Had we not followed as a precaution, who knows what might have happened?” The border defense captain was somewhat less convincing. Encrid watched without so much as a smile. At the end of it, the captain said, “Some of them attempted to flee, and we lost them. I ask that you discipline me.” “Oh, don't worry about that. They were caught.” Moving from the performance to the real story, Marcus pointed beside him. At Encrid, to be precise. “He happened upon them on his way back and caught them.” That had indeed happened. A bundle of gifts had arrived. Some idiot from Black Blade's main force had been running away. “Really?” The border defense captain's eyes filled with a warmth Encrid had never seen before. The man had said losing his charge didn't count as distinguished service, but looking at his and the Battalion Commander's eyes, Encrid understood clearly. 'This definitely counts as distinguished service.' Service recognized by both a Battalion Commander with influence in the capital and the man who held real power in Border Guard. Several nobles went pale. They were quick on the uptake. “Let us observe a moment of silence for Vice Baron Vancento.” The Battalion Commander spoke. He wanted Vancento to die as a noble, not as a bandit spy. He mourned the man while leaving him a member of the kingdom to the very end. That was best for everyone. So, mind yourselves, won't you?

It was as though that moment of silence said exactly that to the remaining nobles. A perceptive bunch like them would understand perfectly. “Now, let us return to the meeting.” Exhausted, dust still piled on his pauldrons, the border defense captain joined the people standing around the table. The meeting resumed. Marcus's plan was riddled with holes. Encrid had thought the man had something to rely on, but he could see nothing of the sort. Only flaws everywhere. 'Seriously, what is he counting on?'

The question struck him anew.