From a distance, an old man dressed magnificently in a red robe with bright yellow at the hem, eyes closed with large burn scars on both, hair as white as paper and skin with dry wrinkles was sitting on a throne with red upholstery and faded purple on the edge iron.
The head maid curtsied respectfully to the old man and announced loudly, taking his attention. "Your Grace, Lord Idramus, I announce the arrival of Sir Alsullon before you!"
Her voice echoed in a room as wide as the great hall for a long time until it stopped in a few seconds.
The old man then raised his hand and nodded slowly. But it's different if seen from a distance, as Alsullon could see how hard it was for him to raise his hand while restraining himself from shaking. Moreover, nodding the head requires excess energy and some time to lift back to its original position.
Alsullon approached him slowly, wanting to reassess the details of the room he had set foot in only once in his childhood. The wall is covered with a reddish maroon colour that is more charming than the hallway wall earlier with a tapestry of a group of birds embroidered with yellow thread.
A brown carpet stretched straight ahead also patterned with birds along with flower chains covering the smooth white ceramic floor, which had a diamond shape pattern with half of the brown side and the rest grey under his feet.
'He truly likes the reddish one, like always.' He thought.
And on the left side of them, four large and wide glass windows penetrated by the light of the midday sun, so that it also illuminated the old man's face.
Alsullon knelt as he reached the throne. "You look great and well today, Master Nehemiah." He praised, as his preferred greeting.
It is a typical tradition to be respectful to high-ups. Needless to say, someone with the highest rank in the nobility who ruled the entire region where he lived, was the Grand Duke of Eljaria, his master and his teacher, Nehemiah Idramus.
And also because of the witness, the head maid.
"You may go now, Mila. This man is harmless and trustworthy." The old duke commanded in a hoarse tone, to the head maid who was left behind.
She hesitated at first to follow the order but bowed her head and left them both alone without a single guard with them.
"She's gone, lad." Said Nehemiah and Alsullon raised himself.
He looked at his face that eyes still closed, thus creating a turbulent content that had been stored in his mind since the first he saw that appearance.
"May I be honest, Master?" He asked for permission, feeling that he could no longer keep it and had to share it.
"What is it?"
"You look like a corpse."
Fortunately, there was no one there but them, for that, was obvious and without needing to interpret it was an insult.
However, Nehemiah knew him very well, who had a habit like that, which followed his teachings to say not to lie. Though right now, he is the one who is being 'consumed' by his own teachings.
"How are your wife and children?" He tried to ignore it.
"They're fine. And let's get to the point, Master?" Alsullon altered his question impatiently. "What is our problem? Until the gates are closed, the people lock themselves, my body has been searched and I am watched over by your assassin disguised as that maid?"
Nehemiah leaned back and took a deep breath, but disturbed with coughed. "I think... you...deserve an...explanation." He answered while coughing that resonated deep. He then readjusted his breathing and took a moment to refill his lungs.
"Are you still aware of our history with our neighbour to the west, the Nevasp Kingdom?" He began and was quickly answered by Alsullon with a scoff. "Of course, I know. They have been our allies for hundreds of years according to an ancient treaty. But what does history have to do with now?"
Nehemiah sighed as he slowly shook his head. "Since the death of His Majesty, our Emperor of Avalon, the Nevasp have become more and more daring to defy the terms of the ancient agreement, and now they have taken advantage of the problem of the power administration vacancy."
"Administration vacancy? Do you mean the absence of a ruler? Doesn't His Majesty already have an heir, I believe?" Alsullon tilted his head, hiding his lack of knowledge about administration and anything governmental.
"Indeed, Her Highness the Empress succeeded in giving him an heir. However, unfortunately, the poor heir is not what they wanted...in gender" Nehemiah deliberately slowed down the last part of his sentence.
His head hung weakly, but then lifted and finally opened his eyes to look at him.
Alsullon scrunched up his face in surprise at him. His eyes were as white as bones and faded with his pupils had blended into the whiteness.
He knew it was due to his past battle merits where the fire with its terrible heat had caught his eyes and for a long time, harmed his sight.
He mused for a long time until he was brought back by the sound of Nehemiah clearing his dry throat.
"To add to our misfortune, during the meeting of the imperial council, my peers now suggested that I step down from the position of temporary administrative manager and hand it over to them. Supposedly, they said, to help lighten the burden of the Empress and me."
He stole a moment to clear his throat again and added more. "And I don't trust them. They're nothing but bunch a of greedy fools!"
"So, what else does that have to do with your position and trust problem?" Alsullon replied with no interest in inferring the answer.
Nehemiah says nothing and instead casts his gaze to the glass window on his right side. Although blind, he is not short-sighted yet does not know where the heat of the light is.
"I wonder how your sister is doing?" He mumbled out loud, distracted from the original topic.
"Back to the topic, old man!" Alsullon called out in annoyance to bring him back from his mind drift.
He might not be senile for his environment, but senile for his concentration.
Nehemiah massaged his forehead. "Forgive me. Anyway, since the administration in Avalon is now in disarray, somehow this reached the ears of the Nevasp and they immediately took advantage of it."
Alsullon didn't say anything, just folded his arms and tilted his head. Too lazy to comment.
"I daresay there are spies here that give them the information." Nehemiah had to answer in his own words.
"Is that the reason why you let out an order for the entire population to be locked up and to confiscate my weapons? Because you suspected a mere spy in Eljar?"
"Indeed, but the curfew and inspection of you was a recommendation from my Steward, Marcus. The one that greeted you at the main entrance."
Alsullon nodded, pretending to understand and take note before then Nehemiah continued.
"Oh, dear. Curse my mindlessness, I almost forgot one more thing." He shook his head as he held his forehead again. "Two days ago, my border scouts reported that several battalions of soldiers had trespassed from the west and were stationed in the Ash Highlands. The scouts could not identify the soldiers, as they neither showed nor waved their flags and banners."
"So, you want my team to deal with them?" He guessed, relaxing his crossed arms.
"Indeed, but meanwhile that..." Nehemiah halted and raised his shaking hands, showing his finger with three rings glittered under the sunlight. One is a sapphire-encrusted ring on his index finger, another one encrusted with yellow quartz crystals on the middle finger and the last one encrusted with ruby on the ring finger.
He held up his index finger and whispered to his sapphire ring that sounded quite distinct to Alsullon like "Bring it in."
Then, the door at the back opened and the Steward earlier named Marcus, walked in carrying a sword still sheathed in beautiful silver steel on a brass tray. He could see that the scabbard had many undulating flame patterns carved to the tip even though it was still far away.
However, he recognized the sword and his mind was stormed with delayed shock.
"Ti...Tiz." An incomplete name crept out of his mind to his lips controlled by the feeling of awe afterwards.
Marcus arrived in front of the throne and bowed to Nehemiah before then facing the sword towards Alsullon who was still deep in thought.
"Indeed, you are not mistaken, lad. This is a sword purified from northern steel and the best gold of Albionis forged by the restless royal smiths and sweated for perfection. With the blessing of the late Emperor bestows the title Tizona, the sword of victory!" Nehemiah beamed with a proud smile on his old face, for, somehow, he seemed to sense that his pupil was speechless.
Almost the same as his memory recalled, where he who still had vision, watched the young man gape when he received his first sword as a gift at the end of training.
Alsullon, still lulled in awe, was tempted to touch the sword but stopped short of awkwardness. "Why did you bring this treasure sword out?" He asked, pulling his hand back again.
The old smile quickly faded, Nehemiah fell silent for a moment and let out a heavy sigh. Now and then he wanted to open his mouth to tell the truth, but his lips would be closed several times until he looked like someone who stuttered his own words.
However, soon he found his voice at the right time.
"A long time ago," He recounted, a little hesitantly. "I accepted an agreement with the late Emperor in return for power and land. It was a condition of my pledge to serve the direct families of His Majesty by all my descendants who will come and take my place later. Therefore, my last wish before leaving is to choose one a member of my bloodline."
The whole room and everything was united with silence and eager to know his next words. He adjusted his position, sat up as straight as he could and held his face high like a true noble.
"Alsullon Nasha. That's your nickname given by me since you still don't know how to walk, all under my care. You and I are not the same in blood, that's the truth. However, as an exception, I will leave this sword in your care, as my worthy successor." He announced grandly.
Sword and speech was his tactic for Alsullon. He was the only one he considered to be the promised successor. Although he was not very knowledgeable about administrative matters, but that could be resolved on another day, he expected.
"I refuse." Unfortunately, that expectation was wrong, as Alsullon doubted it.
Almost causing Marcus to drop the treasure sword in shock, while Nehemiah remained calm and leaned back. "And why would you say that?"
"I should be the one asking such a question. I've been holding back a realization for a long time about you." Alsullon grumbled and was only answered by Nehemiah who raised his white eyebrows.
"What happened to you? You used to be as strong-willed as an elephant, as brave as a lion and as confident as a peacock, but now you bow to your rank, fear risk and depend on others for protection." He clenched his fist tightly, momentarily loosening it.
"Where is that man? The man I adored so much as a hero that I was willing to receive wounds, break bones and weep for him?"
Hearing that, Nehemiah bowed his head and shrank himself on the throne, for he understood what he meant. Swallowing his words one by one, he weakly answered. "Disappeared. The man has disappeared, abandoned due to age and lost waiting due to responsibility..."
"Of course! The responsibility he took on for being blinded by fame and the high life--"
"Enough, Young Master! Your words have gone too far!" Marcus interrupted momentarily, not willing to listen to his master being gratuitously taunted.
Alsullon then looked at him and from the iron veil, a sharp gaze setting upon him.
"If so, tell me, Marcus. You have served this man for a long time from being a simple butler to being my writing teacher, while he has been busy pleasing people like a jester!" He pointed his finger at Nehemiah, ignoring the rank of master and subordinate between them.
Marcus squeezed his thumb hard against the tray he was holding as he watched his behaviour and speech. He had indeed been his teacher after Nehemiah was busy with his aristocratic peers. Teaching him the basics of writing and speaking, religion and etiquette, but now things related to etiquette are reversed.
He restrained his mouth from arguing further, for he was still aware of who and where his rank was as a lowly Steward who was not worthy of reprimanding a favourite child raised by his master himself.
He then stared at his master but Nehemiah didn't say anything to defend himself, instead just closed his eyes in the hope of escaping the scorn.
"Keep that sword of yours. I never dreamed of being a coward like you on that fancy throne, never!" Alsullon groaned, turned his back and headed for the door.
However, before wanting to knock on the luxurious door violently, he then said, "After this, I want permission to retire. Before that, I will carry out my last responsibility not for you, but for Eljar." sarcastically right at the word 'responsibility' and finally he left the room. Leaving Marcus sullenly and Nehemiah dumbfounded.
****
Alsullon stomped his feet loudly in the corridor, but none of the butlers or maids dared to ask him to slow down. His heart is still boiling about his teacher Nehemiah.
He used to be a man full of confidence and courage ready to face everything. His confidence is high, but he does not call for arrogance, because his nature is good to all and does not bow to evil. That's his old self in Alsullon's youthful memory.
When he first became the Grand Duke, all the peer nobles and other dignitaries such as the Kings and Queens of the various Avalon provinces respected him and always flattered him more than an imperial prince, but that was just a ruse. After the Emperor's death, allegedly due to the plague, the nobles now showed their true stripes and took advantage.
He was despised by all the relatives of the empire especially his high peers the kings and queens, for they kept long-hidden envy with smiles and sweet words of praise. They did not accept him who was an outsider who suddenly had a higher rank than them and all reasoned with the Emperor who supposedly favored him too much.
Scorn after scorn was openly directed at him when Alsullon had been with him as a man-in-waiting at a royal banquet in the provincial capital of one of the Kings. Alsullon still remembers how the insults that came out of their sharp royal tongues towards his teacher.
"Well, well, look who's this? It's the Emperor's favourite golden puppy~?" One of them sneered before being followed by a burst of laughter.
Alsullon gripped the hilt of his sword at the rude remark. However, Nehemiah quickly looked at him with his still 'healthy' eyes sharply and shook his head.
Alsullon had to give in while having to bear their insults again. "What? Don't want to say anything on your behalf?" They taunted him, then turned to his teacher and said, "Listen, you commoner. You may be liked by the Emperor and Empress, but you should also realize your true position which is no different than the filthy mercenary from the guild."
Alsullon looked at his teacher and shouted a wish from the bottom of his heart that he would talk back, fight them back. But Nehemiah sealed his mouth tightly and bowed his head to hide his face almost the same as he did earlier. No reply and just let people trample on his head and dignity like a slave, not a hero anymore.
That's what made Alsullon hate and disgust him before now he was old clinging to the throne while complaining about the insults of people from behind but silent from the front.
That's the name of a coward who defames all terms of courage and confidence during his prime.
"Responsibility on my buttock. What's the use of holding responsibility if you didn't dare to carry it out?" He grumbled to himself, feeling a little disgruntled despite having expressed half of it in front of him.
He had passed so many rooms and corridors while he was ranting that he didn't realize he had already exited the palace through the back door. Now unconsciously walking along the neat path of the back courtyard towards the barracks where all the members of his group, the knights, were.
****
"Come on, Gideon! You can do it, son!" The cheers came from above, on the second floor where there were many plainclothes men on the veranda laughing uproariously and engrossed in the fight going on below.
Downstairs, two people were standing in the middle of the sand-floored training grounds; one was a pale yellow-haired young man sweating in his chainmail armour and the other in front of him was a knight in complete and thick armour.
They are getting ready for a duel sword in hand.
The young man named Gideon attacked first, swinging his sword from the side but was stopped by the knight who gripped his tip blade and pushed his sword away, quickly thrusting him in the stomach with the pommel-- causing him to stagger back.
Gideon held the pain as he set up a short guard position, this time allowing the knight to strike first. The knight charged forward with the blade first, Gideon managed to parry and restrained it by the cross-guard.
He twisted the knight's sword to the left and rammed his shoulder into him, sending him back again. Absorbed of the impact, the knight rested his sword on his right waist and swung quickly upwards almost hitting Gideon's chin.
Gideon tried to back away to keep distance between them but the knight charged at him with his sword raised high above his head, ready to cleave his head.
He managed to avoid it by tilting his whole body to the left and the knight's sword just hit the ground, then he slammed his blade into the knight's upper chest making him flinch back but Gideon wasn't done yet. He swiftly slid onto the knight's back and slashed at his calf-- causing his side leg to swing forward and fall to the ground.
A swift victory, he had won against a knight with only self-dexterity. Surprised cheers erupted and laughter echoed merrily while some were collecting betting money.
"Hahaha! Finally, I can defeat you, Sir Antoni!" Gideon exclaimed happily and expanded his chest in satisfaction.
Meanwhile, the knight named Antoni just snorted and adjusted his lying position by supporting his torso with his elbows and looking up at him.
"Don't get cocky, boy..." he said, at the same time his right leg that was hit earlier kicked Gideon's ankle and immediately he also fell to the ground with him.
"Because you should know as long as your opponent is alive, they can still fight. It doesn't matter if they are standing or lying under you." He scolded.
Fortunately, the sword they used to fight with was blunt and he was wearing a lower armour that covered his thighs and calves, so he was still fine. Even so, the pain of being struck by the iron still felt a slight throbbing.
"Ouch...I understand. I'm sorry, sir." Gideon replied as he spat out some sand that was in his mouth.
"It's good if you understand." Antoni, despite being defeated by his foster boy in front of all his fellow knights, was neither humiliated nor ashamed but rather proud and happy for him. He spread his hand and stroked Gideon's head and smiled "I'm proud of you, boy. Keep it up!"
Gideon also smiled, but more than shy, no one had ever said that to him. "Sir, your gauntlet is tearing my hair and it hurts. Please stop it." He reasoned to change the situation, thinking it was a little awkward for everyone.
"Alright, enough of this emotional praise. Help me up, boy." He extended his right hand and borrowed Gideon's shoulder as a crutch to stand on.
The moment Antoni stood up, his whole body stiffened followed by a loud gasp of shock.
Gideon was confused and had time to joke in his mind; 'maybe he had to be spellbound? Or maybe seeing a ghost?'
But when he saw his master's head which was still covered by the helmet, gravely didn't move a bit from staring at something behind him. So, he curiously turned and saw what his master saw, and instantly he too froze.
He saw a knight in dim silvery-white armour and a head covered in a grey veil leaning in the shadow of the entrance gate, staring straight at the two of them sharply.
Gideon shivered thinking that the knight was a ghost in the daylight at first glance, but to his relief, it was not, when the so-called ghost knight came out of the shadows and was illuminated by the sunlight like other human beings.
****
Alsullon felt a strange nostalgia when he saw the two of them getting along like a father and son. This caused him to be carried away by random memories of a time when he and his teacher were almost in the same situation as they were, praising and encouraging.
Feelings of nostalgia then turned into two other feelings that were stirring his heart.
A bit of regret for scolding his old teacher who has taken care of him since he was a child. And envied to see them both, until he unconsciously scowled.
Envy?
He didn't want to embrace that feeling, for it violated his oath with Nehemiah not to covet other people's things nor be jealous of them. He hated his teacher, yet he would still willingly follow his orders, now not as his family member but as a subordinate.
He pondered for a long time and realized that he had been staring at them both intently. He also found himself now standing leaning against the archway of his knight's barracks and stalking from afar like a thief.
'I shouldn't have ended up here...' He wanted to turn back, but that would surely be looked at as strange by his group members.
So, he decided to enter through the archway and greet the two of them who were frozen. The other knight who was still on the veranda noticed him and frantically searched and put on their armour, some even falling or bumping into each other.
Everyone rushed down and gathered beside the yard in a neat row. And in that line, there are those with incomplete armour; armoured on the legs but not on the top, armoured on the upper part of the torso but not on the bottom of the legs and there are also those who only have helmets, yet still dressed in plain cloth.
"An interesting fight." Alsullon praised and that woke them up. Antoni quickly straightened his body posture as upright as possible before him, even in his heavy armour.
"Sir, thank you, sir!" Antoni replied with compliance, while surreptitiously elbowing Gideon and the young man only responded with a forced smile and bowed his head.
"What is your name, champion?" Alsullon asked, but the young man remained silent.
"Don't be shy, young lad." Alsullon wanted to hear his reply, so he glanced at Antoni, motioning to his head
Antoni understood and took Gideon by the shoulder and pushed him forward to face Alsullon.
Gideon swallowed a little of his saliva mixed with anxiety that came from nowhere, but his master Antoni gently patted him on the back encouraging.
"M-my name is Gideon, sir." He stammered at the beginning.
How strange, he had never felt this nervous since he was a brave village boy. Was it because he was facing the faceless man in front of him now? He thought.
It gave Gideon an uneasy air as he sneaked a look at Alsullon. The face was covered with a strangely thick cloth-like veil, even so thick that the sunlight could not penetrate to reveal his expression.
Angry, sad or happy, not everything is clear even the shape of the nose is not visible from the veil. However, the feeling of a pair of eyes watching never wavered from his heart.
'This man creeps me out...' He uttered in his heart that was tickled with fear.
Alsullon nodded and switched to Antoni. "So, he's your Squire?"
"Yes, sir! He is my adopted nephew!"
"I see. Then, I have to admit, this nephew of ours is indeed worthy enough to be a knight." Alsullon looked at Gideon again, but this time the young man returned his gaze with a smile.
"Really, sir?" He exclaimed and unabashedly leaned closer to Alsullon.
'This brat...' Antoni hissed seeing Gideon's behaviour. Any praise about his ambition to become a knight, he will be all excited and forget manners.
He grabbed both of Gideon's shoulders and firmly pulled him back again. "Forgive him, sir. This boy is always over-eager for some reason when he is praised."
"It doesn't matter, at least he has a burning spirit... Hahaha" Alsullon laughed at the end, but his laughter sounded flat and fake for Gideon.
"--Sir Alsullon?" Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw his friend Trevor, sweaty as if he had just run, standing in the barracks arch.
Alsullon turned back to the front and said to Antoni and Gideon "You may get in line.", before facing the approaching Trevor. Antoni obeyed and dragged his nephew away with him.
"Sir Als- I mean Commander, what are you doing here? I thought you'd be at headquarters, so I'm waiting for you there." Trevor asked with a formality, unlike the previous day.
"I...I want to meet all my knights at least once in a while, is that wrong?" Alsullon reasoned, twisting the fact that he got here because he was complacent with his annoyance and was not aware of his surroundings.
"Errr...of course it's not wrong, I just didn't expect you to start a discussion here, that's all." Trevor smiled bitterly. He had already learned of the threat of the foreign army from Nevasp by Nehemiah even before Alsullon reached the city of Eljar.
While they were talking, Gideon who was in line with the other knights whispered to his uncle. "Sir Antoni, who was he just now? The man wearing the strange veil?"
Antoni opened the visor of his helmet that had been covering his face and leaned close to him. "Shush...he's our superior, our boss."
"Superior? Which rank? The captain's adjutant? Or the commander's secretary?" Gideon asked again.
When Antoni was about to answer him, a knight on the left of the same line of them gladly helped to answer. "You are wrong, son. He is the Commander-in-Chief of us Eljar knights and Sir Trevor is the one who is his secretary."
Gideon's tongue stuck up and his jaw tightened in surprise at that. He looked at Antoni for reassurance and he nodded in agreement. However, despite the surprise reaction, his eager young mind was not satisfied with the revelation of Alsullon's rank alone. "If so, why is he wearing a veil? Is he sick?"
"I don't know, boy..." Antoni was too lazy to continue his questioning and closed his face again with the helmet visor.
Gideon frowned, annoyed to see that his uncle was now too lazy to answer his question.
But, luckily, there is someone with a generous heart to answer it again. "The commander has been wearing that veil for a long time since we were still a graduated squire, that is, a bachelor knight, son."
"Yes, it is rumoured that he is conducting a chastity trial at the behest of His Grace, the Grand Duke." One continued from Antoni's side who leaned close to him.
"Supposedly it is said by His Grace that he will be chosen to be the Holy Sentinel if he passes the trial one day!" Another one from their front row was interested in the conversation.
Gideon was amazed by what they explained, even though he didn't know what a 'chastity trial' was, but he slightly understood that it might be something related to knighthood.
'Wow, great! I don't know what chastity is, but that Holy Sentinel sounds awesome!' His admiration turned into an excitement that he couldn't contain until he smiled very widely and shook his fist.
"But that's just a rumour, don't believe it too much." Antoni intercepts and shrugs off his belief before he suddenly jumps off in a fit of overzealousness.
The conversation between Trevor and Alsullon ended with Trevor signalling to the line leader. "All, ready to move out of line, out!" He commanded and everyone walked out slowly and in order.
They then moved to the first floor, as it had a large table and a large space enough for 20 more people, compared to the second floor which had to climb only one flight of stairs and limited space, including the outdoor veranda.
Now they all faced a wide table with a large sheet of map spread out on it. The map has many drawings of continents, countries, states, regions and borders but they focus more on their homeland, the Avalon Empire. With a territory of power that extended to several small to large islands in the lower south and also expanded to the east and had to share with two other large countries.
And right far to the west of them, there is a country that has a dominion that dominates towards the lower south and upper north. That was the Nevasp Kingdom, a kingdom that was once an ally now an enemy.
Alsullon then explained the necessary information such as their invasion. And they all frowned.
"Tch... those ungrateful people." One of the high-ranking knights grumbled. "Don't they remember that we were the ones who helped them when they were hit by a calamity like the plague attack decades ago? And now they dare to against us?"
"Yes, even the plague was caused by them too!" Another was carried away by him. "Yes! They also caused Avalon to be cursed by their plague!" Not long after, it was continued by the others, who started nagging.
Until a loud thump hushed everything followed by a tremor on the table that Trevor's hand slammed into.
"I think they have their reasons for doing so and not all of them are guilty." Trevor glared sharply at the first knight who started it. "Accusing is language violence against the weak and bringing up old issues between nations is meddling with government rights. All of that is a violation of the knight's oath, right, Captain?"
The captain-ranked knight was silent and looked down at the map. "Pardon my speech, sir." He said while the heart said otherwise; wanted to protest but didn't dare.
Alsullon looked at Trevor from the side and he could see the look on his face that was turning sour. 'Since when is he so sensitive? Usually, he's just a cheerful fellow.' He thought but tried to ignore it.
"Even so, we cannot overlook the fact that this foreign army came from Nevasp and invaded the borders of Eljar." Alsullon pointed his finger at a large region northwest of Avalon. That is the Eljaria Province, where they are now.
"And now they have set up camp in the Ash Highlands region." He dragged his finger up to a region in the north-northwest of Eljaria.
Alsullon then turned his gaze to Trevor who was deep in thought at the place his finger pointed for a long time as if thinking about something.
"What is the total combat strength of their troops, Sir Trevor?" Alsullon snaps his fingers twice to wake him up.
"Ah! Yes, uhm...ahem! Pardon me. According to the report of my scout team, they have 4 battalions totalling exactly 4,000 soldiers. Consisting of 2,000 infantry and another 2,000 cavalry." He stated out loud but was only met with silence by everyone who raised their eyebrows or frowned in confusion.
"What?" Even he also got confused because of them.
"Forgive me, sir. But the number of their army is rather small, isn't it?" The same captain-ranked knight voiced his doubts for everyone.
"He's right. Such amount of combat power is not suitable for this kind of invasion strategy, let alone in hilly region like Eljaria." Alsullon agreed as well, tilting his head at Trevor in doubt.
"Commander, my scout team is one of the teams in my commanding brigade that can be trusted, sir!" Trevor replied sternly.
"You swear it is the truth in His Grace's name, Sir Trevor Liswell?" Alsullon did not heed his answer.
Trevor then stood up straight and resolutely and raised his hands in the air. "I swear by the Empress that my words are true, sir."
Everyone was shocked by his excessive oath, except for Alsullon who was still staring at him and judging his expression. Assessing and looking for the secret details behind the words, checking if his eyes or lips will be twitching or not.
All just to make sure he has enough courage and intention to swear on the sacred title of Empress, lest severe punishment await.
And as a result for a long time, he could not find the slightest sign of doubt on his seriously stiff face. Perhaps stressed about something, thought Alsullon.
"Well, then. Perhaps the Gods have lightened our burden a little or are they just mercenaries?" Alsullon joked to lighten the mood.
All of his knights grinned and some chuckled as if they understood his insincere joke, while Trevor silently sighed in relief.
Alsullon then rerolled the map and slammed his hand on the table, getting their attention back from laughing and grinning. "Alright, lads! Never forget, even if the enemy has flaws, don't ever be complacent about it. Go practice and resharpen your swords-- don't let yourselves get dull and rusty, understood?"
"Yes, sir!" Answer them simultaneously.
"Good! Now, disperse!"
All the members then walked away, some went back to the second floor to get their weapons and the parts of their armour that were left behind. Some immediately warm up and practice fighting with each other's swords or hitting a dummy at the edge of the yard.
Now only he and Trevor remain. Just as he wanted to move away, Trevor called out.
"Hey, Alsullon. I have a request if you'd like to hear it first?"
"What is it?"
"Can you withdraw from the battle?"
Alsullon answered nothing but stared.
"I mean, could you leave this battle to me?" Trevor amended his request.
"And what is the reason that I would commit such a reprehensible act?" After a long silence, Alsullon asked back coldly.
"It's nothing-- Just let me handle it for you, that's all, please."
"Do you realize that is a breach of my mandate as Commander-in-Chief? To withdraw even before the battle begins is cowardice, Trevor." Alsullon growled, a little annoyed at his request.
"Alsullon, please listen, I beg--"
"Enough!" Alsullon interrupted quite loudly, drawing the attention of several of his knights. "First from that pathetic old man, and now you're acting like this too? What's wrong with all of you?"
"This is for your good, Alsullon!" Trevor snapped even louder and made all of his members stop their training to look, only to be told to resume by the knight Captain.
"What's up with the virtue of backing down, huh?" Alsullon angrily approached and slapped his own chest plate. "I'd rather die on the ground of the battlefield than be a coward and rot on the throne like him!"
Alsullon then snorted in annoyance and turned his back to him, preparing to leave. But at that time he said again. "I see, I understand now. You've wanted to be the leader for a long time, haven't you? That's why you insisted so much that I didn't join this battle, yes? We've been friends for a long time and this is your true intention, huh?"
"What? That's not what I meant--"
"After I manage to drive away those pesky invaders, you're welcome to take my rank. I already plan to quit this position anyway." Alsullon walked away, exiting the barracks tensely.
Now leaving Trevor speechless, even if there were words it would have been stuttering in confusion. He had neither the intention nor the desire to take his rank, but now it had become a big misunderstanding.
****
Within a week, all their preparations were complete with two strong brigades established.
The first brigade under the leadership of Alsullon totalled 3,000 infantrymen led by a Brigadier General. The second brigade under the leadership of Trevor totaled 4,000 full cavalry joined by two Brigadier Generals.
Each unit of the brigade consists of a battalion of Bachelor knights, their Squires and common soldiers called Sergeants under the banner of Captain Banneret, Banneret knights.
They will leave on the first day of the week and before that they will spend their time with friends or family, supposedly to get the blessing of protection.
Unfortunately, for Alsullon, he can't go back to his house to also spend time with his family who are too far from the city. Thus, he could only sit alone in the church pew contemplating what had happened.
Trevor was also with his family. Before they were teenagers, Trevor was the one who would always approach and talk to him, regardless of being ignored by him countless times until he gave in.
Alas, due to the incident at the barracks a few days ago, their relationship as friends began to strain and Alsullon regretted his conversation without thinking twice.
He sighed after saying his prayer and picked himself up from the pew, then walked out. And outside the entrance gate of the church, he saw two familiar people that had been waiting for him.
It was Marcus, the Steward and Mila, the head Maid who was secretly an assassin. And in her arms, a long, straight object wrapped in white cloth.
Alsullon sighed again while shaking his head, then reluctantly approached them.
"Good evening, Sir Alsullon..." Marcus greeted nonchalantly and with a rather sour face, still angry with his actions in the throne room. While Mila just bowed respectfully without making any sound.
"What is that?" Alsullon nodded at the object she was holding, ignoring Marcus.
Marcus then sighed lightly and motioned for Mila to unwrap the white cloth and it turned out to be the same still-sheathed sword that impressed him the other day, it's Tizona.
"His Grace said; Go play with it. But be careful, don't cut yourself, lad. " Marcus delivered a message that made Alsullon hit with yet another nostalgic feeling.
"Hmm...I thought he had disappeared." Alsullon babbled longingly as he accepted the sword and felt the hilt. And found that it was not made of pure gold as Nehemiah had said, but of bronze overlaid with gold.
"But it turns out he's still there, isn't he?" Marcus helped continue his sentence, with a smile on his sour face.
The same words of advice were always spoken by Nehemiah when he gave Alsullon a new weapon to try when he was still a boy.
"Anyway, sir. Do you want to draw the sword from its scabbard or do you just want to look at it?" Marcus grinned at Alsullon who turned the sword and examined it from various angles while touching and feeling the texture of the hilt.
'Very much the same as before...' He thought amused to see him acting like the little child he used to be. Just like when he was still Butler standing by Nehemiah's side, watching Alsullon smile happily without a veil on his head.
Alsullon nodded in agreement and took the sword out of its sheath.
And he was mesmerized for a moment when the blade was clearly in sight; it had a smooth silvery blade and shone in the light of the church torch, with a unique bright reddish-brown line glaring at its sharp double edge-- he felt it carefully and it was a copper coating.
His eyes then travelled down and reached the part that retracted his attention the most, which was the part slightly above the cross-guard, called the Ricasso part. There, there was a carving like a wavy sun with a small charming ruby inlaid in the middle.
"It's beautiful and light." He said, tempted to touch the ruby. When his finger reached it, then suddenly there was a small spark that jolted him in surprise. And he could swear he could see the ruby glowing a dark red followed by a warmth that spread to its copper-coated edge that he still touched.
"I wish you success by this sword on behalf of His grace. Farewell, Sir Alsullon." Marcus and Mila left Alsullon, who only nodded in response and sheathed the Tizona sword.
Now, he felt eager, perhaps more eager than the young squire Gideon, to face the invaders without remorse or doubt of the danger upcoming.