Chapter 11: Good day, my dear sire
1896 Words
--My uncle will always retake it for me if I wish.
The words, coming from the king's lips, were merely a statement taken for granted out of arrogance. But there was no way in which the general of Brescia could really take it as a casual caprice.
People in this age fought wars all the time, from the state down to the nobility.
For the sake of dignity, for the sake of profit, for the sake of faith ...... But the expedition of the kingdom of Blesi had another reason. They were feuding with the Rogaland Empire, and the war between the two countries had been going on for more than a hundred years - historians refer to it simply as the "Hundred Years' War". In the Hundred Years' War, it was often the case that the Rogaland Empire had the upper hand at one time, and the Kingdom of Bressi at another.
Now, it was the time when the Kingdom of Bolesi had the upper hand, and that was where the expeditionary force came from.
No one knew the situation of the Bolesi Expeditionary Army better than the general.
A dilemma.
After truly occupying the Moon River Fortress, the Bolesi would realize that the fortress was very awkward for them.
The terrain of the Moon River Fortress was treacherous, which destined that there were no fields within the fortress. The Moon River Fortress had military defense as its main purpose, and did not produce its own food. All along, Moon River Fortress relied on Tru City's supply and the central plains to deliver food. If the Bolesi Kingdom wanted to take control of it, then it would have to bring in food from the sea. ......
This could be costly.
They could attack it, but they couldn't occupy it for a long time.
The best thing to do was to use it to trade for higher benefits from the Rogaland Empire.
But the reckless arrogance of Rogaland's teenage king became their biggest obstacle at this time instead.
--Could they really continue to spend time here?
They couldn't.
The general knew it in his heart.
"So be it."
The king rose, took the prepared draft from his officer, flipped through it, and absently crossed out the few clauses on it that were of interest to the crown. Then signing his name, he threw the draft before the general.
"Either you agree, or you can keep that pile of broken rocks. This negotiation is so verbose that Cordona's play is enough to sing it three times over."
Cordona's Drama, a traditional 20th century opera that uses a lot of empty and useless prose and a long drawn out plot. Often used by the eye to mock an event that wastes too much time on side details.
Rogaland's negotiating ambassadors were grim-faced and desperate, thinking it was over, this negotiation was about to be screwed up by the king.
But there was nothing they could do to stop the king ...... After all, the only thing that could make the treaty work in the end was the king's signature.
The tent was silent.
The king stood up and told the chief housekeeper to go pack up his things, he was ready to return to the palace. The rest of the officials, under his command, could only pale like ghosts one by one as they floated out of the tent after the king.
In just a few moments before and after, the originally noisy tent became silent, and only the bewildered Bolesi negotiators and the iron-faced general remained on the other side of the long negotiation table.
The personnel of Bolesi looked at me and I looked at you, no one could say anything for a while.
This, wasn't it fine just now? How come all the people are gone in a flash?
At this moment, they could finally understand the bitterness in the hearts of Rogaland's peers over the years.
Spread on such an unreasonable tyrant ...... who can not laugh.
"General?"
Someone asked in a whisper.
The Expeditionary General waved his hand, telling the others to go out first.
The general was the only one left in the tent used for negotiations, and he couldn't help but curse out as he glared at the draft without regard to etiquette, "That stupid bastard Grice, why didn't he send this bastard to hell earlier?"
After a long time, he grabbed a quill and angrily signed his name on the draft.
"Damn scoundrel."
He nearly scratched the paper.
............
The rows were all sorted out, and the officers watched, almost dragging their feet in despair, as the tents were put away one by one.
Their king was unconcerned about it.
He gripped his whip, which was braided with a mixture of gold and silver threads, and stroked his steed - said to be a descendant of the king's father, William III's warhorse. The king hadn't cared much for him before, but this time he suddenly began to love him.
I am afraid that even the devil could not understand the likes and dislikes of the young monarch.
The things were put away in the oak carriage, and the chamberlain reluctantly lifted the curtains for the king.
"--Please stay!"
Someone ran up panting.
It was the aide-de-camp of General Bolesi Expedition.
He was pale with fear when he saw that only a few moments away the king was literally about to leave.
The king stopped his boarding, and he slightly inclined his head, his icy blue eyes looking coldly at the visitor.
The adjutant didn't dare to dawdle and hurriedly took out the contract signed with both parties' names.
The king did not reach out, he swept his gaze and casually let the chief of internal affairs take it.
The chief chamberlain, flushed with excitement, took the contract from the adjutant's hands, carefully spread it to the end, and sure enough, on it he saw the name of General Bressy-though the harsh handwriting revealed ten to one the anger of his master.
"Your Majesty!"
The voice of the chief chamberlain trembled a little with excitement.
The depression was swept away and joy hung over the negotiating team.
"Let's go, I've had enough of this shit."
The king was cold and unsympathetic, and had no intention of celebrating the fruits of this rare victory with them, instead urging the group to get up and head back to his palace in a hurry.
The contract, however, was signed without incident, and by mistake for a lesser price. Until then, the people looked upon the king's caprice as less distressing than in former days. Everyone boarded their carriages cheerfully, leaving only the sobbing Lieutenant de Bressy behind.
May the Lord preserve him from an unmerited wrath.
............
"General, what is your impression of the boy king?"
After a long hesitation, the astrologer asked.
"A complete asshole, a villain."
The general replied without hesitation.
"Let him go to hell with his arrogance."
"General, I think it's best we don't let the King of Rogaland leave here alive."
The swirling curtain of blood and blackness came back before the astrologer's eyes, he suggested.
"No need to worry too much about him." The General seemed to be feeling a little amused, "My dear Astrologer, that's just an arrogant and insolent boy who has gone too far in his caprices ...... He'll pay for it soon enough."
The astrologer wanted to say something else.
"Well my Lord Astrologer, go pack your bags, it is time for us to return to the ship."
The General wasn't in the mood to hear any more.
The astrologer had to bow out.
Returning to his tent, the astrologer spread out a sheet of letter paper, pondered for a moment, and wrote a letter with a quill dipped in a special star ink. The letter was addressed to his mentor, in which he described in detail what he had seen while observing King Rogaland, and asked his mentor what this signified.
"...... The general does not take the notification of fate to heart. But teacher, I feel uneasy, whether it be that sun or those blood-colored swirls ...... Please guide me."
He stopped his pen to examine this letter of his.
"I'm sorry to hear that, sir."
The candle flame in the tent suddenly flickered, and the astrologer sensed something, and he reached into his pocket to try to draw the silver dagger that was there. But he failed.
A thick black mist sprang up noiselessly from the ground, filling the narrow space in a flash. Darkness engulfed the place. The astrologer stiffened, and it took almost all his strength to turn his head. The black mist swept towards him and he saw a man slowly emerge from the darkness.
This darkness that went straight to hell ...... The other person was ......
He lost consciousness.
"It seems my dear sire is in a little bit of trouble."
Black mist flowed across the floor as the devil in his exquisite, gorgeous black gown walked over to the astrologer's table.
He gently drew out the letter and held it up in front of himself.
"Darkness and scarlet ...... are beautiful, my liege."
He said as he sighed.
A black, stern fire flared up on his pale, cold fingertips, and the letter turned to ash and drifted down into the black mist.
The devil dropped his hand and rested his fingertips against the astrologer's forehead.
"It is not a good character to spy on another's most beloved treasure, Mr. Astrologer."
The memory was drawn from the astrologer's forehead like a pale white liquid, and the Devil placed it into a fine crystal ball and pressed it against his own forehead.
He saw the king in the noonday sun.
The king was wearing a scarlet coat blooming with rosebuds, and his ice-blue eyes were sunken with a heart that no one could pry into. And with the aid of the eyes of the astrologer, he saw at last a little of the nearest thing to the king s thoughts ...... that signaled the destiny of the future. Countless scarlet swirls on the deep black curtain.
In fact, only those scarlet swirls are the king s true destiny.
The black curtain signaled that he had signed a contract with the devil, and his soul had already belonged to hell.
How beautiful.
"My liege."
The devil murmured.
The memory terminated at the king's departing back. The devil put the crystal ball away carefully and reached out to visualize a scarlet rosebush. He stuck the rosebush to his chest, then crossed with a brisk gait to the unlucky man who would forget everything once he woke up.
He didn't mind completely solving a hidden problem for the king.
But having those people from the Holy Inquisition come across the sea would become troublesome, wouldn't it?
It was already dusk at this time.
With the color of blood and dimness covering the earth, it was the right time for all the dark creatures to come out.
The devil was hidden in the dimness, he stood straight, the tails of his black gown blown up by the wind, the edges fading into mist-like trails. He plucked the rosebush from his chest and raised it gently in the direction of the king's departure, "Good day, my dear sire."
He kissed the rosebud.
- Writer
