* * *

The morning sun shone brightly, as though granted new life. As though it had died and risen again.

Ordinarily, the people of Belfort would have begun their daily work buoyed by that vigorous energy, but today was rather different.

The armory had been opened, and the men bustled about while the women and children lit fires and set pots over them right in the street, as though preparing a meal in the field.

Long streaks of blood marked that same street where the bodies of the wild folk had been dragged away.

“Bring every arrow we have!”

“Then what do we defend the outpost with?”

“Shut up and bring them when I tell you! Those are the Patrol Officer’s orders!”

The deputy outpost commander drove the able-bodied men harder than ever. They had never mounted a counterattack on this scale before.

Besides, what Valeri had done was seared so deeply into his mind that he could still see it before his eyes. He had wondered how someone so young had become a Patrol Officer. Sure enough, the youth was none other than the Salt Prince whose name had lately been on everyone’s lips.

If it was him—if it was him, surely he could put an end to these anxious days caused by the wild folk. Hope welled up irrepressibly within him.

The men of the outpost village hurried back and forth, carrying arrows, shields, and other supplies to Valeri.

Meanwhile, near the northern forest, Valeri watched the soldiers resupply from horseback and frankly felt ready to burst with frustration. They were so slow.

Once an order was given, everything should proceed in perfect coordination. Not so with Belfort’s soldiers.

Some ran all that distance just to confirm an order they had already received. Others kept coming to ask what they should do about this or that.

So despite all their sweating and running with heavy equipment, more than half their efforts were wasted.

Since they were going into the forest, they needed to bring mostly shields, close-combat weapons, bows, and crossbows rather than long spears. Instead, they brought this, brought that, even hauled over a water barrel. It was quite a spectacle.

One might wonder why Valeri did not simply ride over and back himself, but resting his horse before a major battle was important too. That was not an option.

Still, seen another way, he was simply expecting too much. Men who grew barley and guarded a gateway could hardly match the elite soldiers who had boasted an undefeated record.

“You hopeless idiots! I told you to bring canteens! Canteens! Why are you bringing a water barrel?”

Outpost Commander Edric was evidently no less frustrated as he berated the young men who were both his soldiers and his neighbors.

“Th-the more water, the better...”

“You mad bastard! Are you going to carry that into the forest? Use your head! Your head!”

“It is their first time. Mistakes are to be expected. Shouting will accomplish nothing, so calm yourself, Commander. Getting worked up will do you no good in battle.”

Unable to watch any longer, Valeri intervened.

“I-I am ashamed.”

“Appoint experienced soldiers as noncommissioned officers. I suspect this is happening because you and your deputy are trying to command everyone on your own.”

“Understood.”

Edric flushed with embarrassment. It was rare for a Patrol Officer to step in and deal with their troubles, yet things were going wrong from the very start. He could not help worrying what Valeri would think.

“By the way, those bastards still haven’t run off. They’re watching us.”

One of the bowmen spoke up.

Valeri turned his head and saw wild folk standing blankly in the distance near the horizon, looking their way.

“It’s fine. They’re standing around doing nothing because they don’t know what to do either.”

Even Belfort’s soldiers were milling about in confusion; the wild folk hardly bore mentioning. They had committed everything to today’s diversionary attack and had no plan for what to do if it failed.

A proper army had established procedures for defeat: retreat in good order, regroup, contact the main force, and so on. The wild folk had nothing of the kind.

They did not even realize their own base was in danger. All they wondered was why Belfort’s soldiers were going back and forth so much.

Resupplying had taken longer than Valeri expected, but the opportunity to counterattack had not vanished.

By the time they had more or less finished, the force numbered about ten, including Commander Edric. Ordinarily, that would have been nowhere near enough to fight a battle, but the enemy was in disarray now.

“Listen carefully. First, we rescue the hostages. Second, we burn the enemy’s base. Follow that order strictly. If we start the fires first, the hostages may be hurt. Don’t leave awkward gaps between yourselves. Stay together as you advance.”

Everyone nodded gravely at Valeri’s instructions. Then they entered the forest with someone who knew the terrain in the lead.

The forest was quiet, as though even the birds were holding their breath.

There was something of a path through it. Wider than a trail, it seemed to have formed naturally from the wild folk’s comings and goings.

Normally, the soldiers would not have dared come anywhere near this place, but with Valeri there, they felt confident despite their pounding hearts.

And there were the men beside them. They were brothers, or next-door neighbors who had grown up together. Some were fathers with children of their own; all were someone’s older brother or son.

They had entered the forest in the morning and only reached the wild folk’s base around noon. There was not a single sentry, allowing them to approach quite close without being detected.

The reason was simple: the wild folk had scraped together everyone who could fight for their attack, leaving no one even to stand guard.

A small stream wound around the wild folk’s village, and something more like a crude fence than a palisade encircled its outskirts.

The raiders who had returned after their sound beating were noisily jabbering away in words the soldiers could not understand. Not even in their dreams did they imagine that their own base might come under attack.

Valeri studied the enemy’s position with a calm, keen gaze, then gave his orders.

“Go around to the right and loose arrows at them. I’ll stay hidden, then charge straight in when the gate opens. Commander, bring your soldiers in then. After that, we rescue the hostages, set the fires, and withdraw quickly.”

It hardly deserved to be called a fortress gate, but the main entrance was barred from the inside, making a direct approach difficult.

Commander Edric nodded and immediately led his soldiers quietly around to the village’s right side.

Valeri hid among the trees and undergrowth, then gave a hand signal to Edric, who was watching him. Edric in turn gave his archers their orders.

“For the first shot, all of you loose together when I give the word. After that, shoot at anything you see.”

The four archers nodded.

“Nock.”

Edric’s voice was taut with tension. The archers fitted arrows to their bowstrings.

“Draw.”

At his command, the archers drew together, their bows creaking.

“Aim... loose.”

Four arrows left their strings at once. Three struck the ground or went wide, but one hit a wild man squarely in the neck. With accuracy like that on the first volley, this was a day when things were bound to go their way.

THUD. THUD-THUD. THUNK.

“Ghk.”

As the wild man fell with an arrow in him, the others nearby started in alarm and looked toward the direction it had come from.

Then, pointing and screeching like monkeys or goblins, they grabbed their weapons and poured outside.

“Uraaaaaah!”

Naturally, the gate opened as they came out, and Valeri shot forward.

BA-DUM, BA-DUM, BA-DUM, BA-DUM!

The wild folk flinched at the sudden sound of hoofbeats, but it was already too late.

The massive warhorse hurtled forward like a chariot, smashing indiscriminately through the wild folk crowding the narrow path.

THUD! THUD-THUD-THUD! THUD-THUD! THUD-THUD-THUD!

A dozen or so were sent sprawling in an instant, and Valeri burst into the village like lightning. He hauled on the reins to stop abruptly, and Snow reared with his forelegs raised high and gave a mighty neigh.

NEIGH!

The wild folk inside stared wide-eyed, at a loss for what to do.

While they floundered in confusion, Valeri spurred his horse forward again, trampling them and drawing his sword to cut them down. The wild folk began scrambling about in utter panic.

“Now!”

Edric shouted and swiftly led his six close-combat soldiers into the village. The wild folk strewn around the main gate lay unconscious or writhed and groaned.

“The hostages are over there!”

Valeri shouted while continuing to drive his horse at the enemy, keeping them at bay.

Sure enough, the hostages were penned up like animals in a wooden cage.

“Brother!”

Someone among the prisoners cried out.

One soldier’s head whipped around at the call. When he saw the state his younger sister was in, he went berserk.

“You fucking baaaastards!”

“Hey!”

Edric hastily seized the soldier by the scruff of his neck, dragged him back, and slapped him hard across the face.

SMACK!

“Get hold of yourself!”

Then he went over with his own hatchet and struck the bar securing the prisoners’ cage. It was made of solid wood too, but after several blows it cracked apart.

“Hurry out! There’s no time! You, damn it, pull yourself together!”

There were quite a few people in the cage, suggesting that not all had been taken from Belfort. Most were women or children. One woman emerged carrying a newborn baby.

Meanwhile, Valeri dismounted. The space was too cramped for him to ride freely.

Most of the enemy had lost their nerve and were fleeing, but some hid between the pit houses, watching for an opening. Valeri approached them and swung his sword.

The wild folk tried to fight back with thick clubs, but it was hopeless. Severed arms and heads tumbled to the ground.

Their screams rang through the air, feeding the terror of their fellows.

“Aaaaaaaargh!”

Some tried to approach Snow amid the chaos, but he had once been called a man-eating horse for good reason. He lashed out with his hind legs, smashed skulls with his forehooves, and tore at faces with his teeth, rampaging more savagely still.

Under that cover, Edric and his soldiers swiftly left the village, protecting the hostages.

“Patrol Officer!”

Edric shouted.

They were supposed to set fires on their way out, but they had not managed it—perhaps because seven men, including Edric, were too few, or because protecting the hostages was already more than they could handle.

“Go on ahead!”

Valeri shouted back.

Looking quickly around, Valeri spotted a fire burning inside a pit house. He rushed in without hesitation, only to see something he wished he had not.

Human bones were piled in a corner. The skulls alone made it clear they were not animal remains. Some still had flesh clinging to them.

For a brief moment, his head swam, but he quickly snatched up a burning log and began setting fires here and there.

Most of the pit houses were built of woven brush, like the twigs of a broom, and caught astonishingly well.

Once one house was properly ablaze, the fire spread to the others in an instant. Acrid smoke billowed upward.

Valeri hurriedly mounted Snow again and rode out of the village.

“Let’s go!”

CLOP-CLOP, CLOP-CLOP, CLOP-CLOP!

Outside the village, Valeri found the soldiers finishing off the wild folk sprawled on the ground. The archers kept picking off the fleeing enemy to the last.

“Rally! Raaally!”

Valeri raised his sword from horseback and shouted. Amid the chaos, everyone turned toward him and hurried over.

“We have accomplished our objectives. We are returning now. Do nothing unnecessary.”

He knew precisely when to begin and when to stop. What was more, he had been the first to charge in and the last to leave, guarding their rear.

Without realizing it, Edric and his soldiers alike felt a swelling loyalty toward Valeri. If there was such a thing as a true hero, they were certain it was this man.

Whatever emotions were swelling in their hearts, Valeri coolly surveyed their surroundings.

They had rescued roughly twenty people. Now that they could breathe a little easier, everyone embraced and wept. Some were family, others neighbors.

“There will be time for touching reunions once we return to the outpost. Commander, lead the way. Close-combat soldiers, guard the flanks. Archers, follow at the rear. I will ride ahead and check for possible ambushes.”

It was unlikely there would be any, but Valeri remained thorough to the very end. Perhaps it was because he was so devoid of emotion, but he truly seemed like a machine.

Naturally, there were no ambushes. By the time they emerged from the forest, the sun was setting.

Then one soldier, apparently unable to contain his bursting joy, suddenly flung aside his weapon and helmet and ran through the barley fields bathed in the red sunset, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“They’re back! Everyone’s back!”

The soldiers guarding the perimeter of the barley fields turned in surprise. A moment later, people came pouring out of the outpost too. The rescued hostages also broke into a run across the fields.

“Mom!”

“Fatheeer!”

At that, the people coming out of the outpost ran toward them in astonishment.

Death in childbirth, death in infancy, death from illness, death in war. In a world with so many ways to die, people doggedly carried on, pretending the loss of family did not hurt. Yet surely they could not help missing them.

They met in the barley fields, flung their arms around one another, and sank to the ground sobbing.

Watching them, Valeri felt an inexplicable sense of exclusion. He quietly turned his horse and rode away from the setting sun, like a man who could not bear to look at it.

He had gone some distance when someone came running after him, calling out.

“Patrol Officer! Patrol Officerrr!”

He looked back to find Commander Edric. The man ran up to him and spoke between gasps for breath.

“Where are you going? We—we owe you a tremendous debt. I’m sorry we failed to entertain you properly yesterday. Today we’ll slaughter a cow and give you a feast, so please stay.”

Valeri shook his head.

“As I said, I cannot stay long. I have done my duty as Patrol Officer, so I will be on my way. For now, take greater care guarding the outpost and search the surrounding area thoroughly. There are still remnants of the enemy left. Keep that up for a while, and with their base gone, they will naturally disperse like grains of sand scattered by the wind. May peace dwell in Belfort.”

Valeri inclined his head slightly and turned his horse once more.

“What? B-but...”

Edric could not understand how a man could behave this way. After accomplishing something like that, surely it was only natural to feel proud? He could at least have asked for money.

Yet Valeri did none of those things. He simply rode on alone toward the east, where daylight had already faded.

There was even something forlorn about his retreating figure. Edric stood watching for a long time, as though stunned.

For a shining hero, why did he seem so lonely? What story could possibly lie behind it...?

Part 8 — The Prince of the Barley Fields. End.