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[Translator - Jjescus]
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Chapter 8: The Skara Plains
The wind swept across the grasslands of the plains, rustling Ram's black hood.
Though a helmet covered his face beneath the hood, he instinctively gripped it tightly with one hand.
It was a habit he had picked up in just a few days.
“Keep your eyes sharp, boy.”
General Terdin called Ram "boy."
He consciously avoided using Ram's name and rarely referred to him as "Shadow" either.
Ram didn’t mind.
When Terdin spoke to him, his voice was so low that even the Lieutenant standing beside him couldn't hear.
That was the signal.
Only Ram could understand it.
So whenever the general spoke like that, it meant he was addressing Ram alone.
Terdin utilized Ram's acute hearing in this way.
And for that reason, Ram wore a helmet that covered only his face, leaving his ears and mouth free.
Ram gave a small tap near the side of his helmet.
That was his reply since the general’s hearing wasn’t as sharp.
Before Terdin even issued the order, Ram had already been scanning the area.
There was nothing suspicious across the open expanse of the Skara Plains.
There wasn’t much to scrutinize with his eyes.
His ears, however, were busy.
About a mile behind them, over fifty horses were shifting restlessly.
It was the cavalry of Triton, who had crossed the narrow section of the Targef River.
This plain was the battlefield the allies had longed to fight on and the place the enemy desperately wanted to avoid.
But today, there would be no battle here.
The plains had been designated as the site for surrender negotiations.
The allied cavalry was stationed as a precaution.
Their inaction today would determine the success of the negotiations.
It was likely the Geronians felt the same.
Ram could hear the faint sound of horses from a mile north.
To the eye, only five Geronians on horseback were visible, about four hundred steps away.
That was the agreed number for the surrender negotiations.
And here, five were present as well.
General Terdin, Lieutenant Aedun, a nobleman serving as commander, a knight acting as a bodyguard, and Ram.
Ram positioned himself about ten steps behind them.
The trained warhorse stood steady under his inexperienced horsemanship.
“Are you certain you’ll go alone, General?”
Aedun asked anxiously.
“Is there a problem?”
Terdin replied.
“They insisted on meeting here on the Crescent Plains, even though we suggested near the Targef River. In other words, this is a location they chose. They might have prepared an ambush.”
“Didn’t we agree to meet in a place open enough for both sides to feel secure? And didn’t both sides agree on five representatives each? You even met with them twice during the past week, didn’t you?”
Terdin's tone was one of gentle rebuke.
For a week, Aedun and a few other commanders had taken turns visiting the enemy camp to discuss the details of the surrender negotiations—who, when, and where they would meet, and how many would attend.
“That’s true, but…”
Aedun tried to say more, but the nobleman standing beside him interjected with a complaint.
“Do you truly intend to negotiate the surrender with these savages on this plain, General Terdin?”
The noble, a count named Vadio, had been grumbling since before their arrival.
He had complained about getting his clothes wet while crossing the Targef River and was still wearing a sour expression.
“Don’t call them savages, Count. Call them Geronians. I’ve stressed this many times: address them properly…”
Vadio interrupted Terdin mid-sentence.
“When the stronger side wins, they march in and trample the defeated. Soldiers should be allowed to plunder their villages to claim recompense for the years of war. Just give the word. Fifty cavalrymen are more than enough.”
“If our goal were to burn this land to the ground and slaughter every last Geronian, including infants, that would suffice. But we are here to rule, not annihilate. These people will continue to live here, and thus, we must negotiate. Exercise patience, Count Vadio.”
“Even so, General! This is a critical meeting that will conclude the entire war.”
“I’m aware.”
Terdin’s response was curt, as if to say, “So what?”
“Then why, instead of a noble like me or Lieutenant Aedun, are you bringing… him?”
Vadio glared at Ram.
“That… child whom no one even knows?”
“He’s not a child no one knows. He’s my Shadow.”
“You didn’t even have a Shadow until recently.”
“I deemed one necessary.”
“And why, exactly, is that necessary?”
“If an ambush were to happen while I’m there, could you protect both me and yourself, Count?”
Vadio had no answer, though his dissatisfaction was clear.
“Boti?”
Terdin called out to the knight standing beside Vadio, focused solely on the horizon.
It was Boti, renowned as the most skilled warrior in their army.
He had also served as Ram’s training instructor, though their sessions were few.
“Boti?”
Terdin called again.
The knight, too absorbed in vigilance, didn’t respond.
“Even Aedun isn’t the only one tense. Boti!”
At last, the knight turned.
“Yes, General?”
“In an emergency, prioritize protecting Count Vadio. If anything happens to me, he will be the commander of this force.”
“…Understood.”
Boti replied reluctantly.
Terdin gestured toward Ram.
“Let’s go, boy.”
Terdin set off first, with Ram following behind.
As Ram passed the three men who remained, he avoided looking in Vadio’s direction.
Vadio might know the Baron Selken personally.
If he recognized Ram and reported back to the master…
Ram couldn’t shake his worry, even though Vadio had no reason to make such a connection.
“Were you already keeping watch?”
Terdin asked, deliberately slowing his horse.
“There’s nothing within a mile.”
“You’ve learned to use miles as a measure now?”
“I’ve picked it up from the commanders’ conversations.”
A mile equaled a thousand steps, each step two paces.
The distance varied slightly between armies, but in Terdin’s forces, ten miles marked the distance infantry could march in a day.
To accommodate soldiers unfamiliar with miles, terms like “half-day distance” or “a quarter-day distance” were often used, but commanders calculated exclusively in miles.
Over the past week, Ram had grown accustomed to the unit.
“You heard Aedun concern. Do you think an ambush is likely?”
“The grass here only reaches knee height—unsuitable for assassins to hide. I’m listening for any potential threats, but there’s no cause for concern.”
“The Geronians are probably just as worried about an ambush.”
“Yes. They’re having a conversation similar to ours right now.”
“You can hear them from this far?”
“Yes.”
“What are they saying?”
Ram caught snippets of the Geronians’ words carried by the wind.
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[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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“The exact midpoint between our position and the enemy's. A wide-open area difficult for ambushes, a plain stretching to the horizon with not a single tree in sight. No sneak attacks are likely, but the 'southern folks' have stationed their cavalry near the Targef River. Cavalry moves fast, so we must remain cautious... that’s the gist of it.”
Terdin glanced at Ram.
“Are you nervous too?”
“I’m always nervous.”
“Then why do you look curious?”
“I do have a question, but it’s not important.”
“Ask it.”
“It’s really nothing.”
“I told you to ask. Wearing that curious expression and calling it ‘nothing’ will only make me curious.”
“...Why does Lieutenant Aedun call this place Crescent Plain?”
Terdin chuckled.
Ram felt a bit embarrassed, but Terdin kindly explained.
“Because the Geron people call it Skara. It means ‘crescent moon,’ or so I’m told. They say the shape of the land resembles one. We scouted the surrounding area dozens of times before the war started, but I saw no resemblance to a crescent moon. I wondered if adding the northern islands might make the shape fit, but the islands are scattered too far apart to verify. So, I just accepted it. Land changes over centuries, and names often tie in with the myths or legends of the local people.”
As they talked, they drew within two hundred paces of five Geronians.
“This is the midpoint,”
Ram said, and Terdin halted immediately.
He abruptly turned around.
Ram thought he might be checking their forces, but instead, Terdin asked an unrelated question.
“What do you think of Lieutenant Aedun’s teaching?”
Ram wondered if this was the right time for such a question but, as usual, voiced no objections and answered candidly.
“Before I can form an opinion, he doesn’t teach me much.”
“What does he say when he refuses to teach?”
“That I’m unworthy of being taught.”
“Unworthy… Lieutenant Aedun used to tutor noble children before the war.”
“Then he might feel insulted teaching someone like me, a slave.”
“How did he know you were a slave? Ah! He must have read that part when I ordered your records erased. Sharp as ever, I see.”
“Is it alright?”
“Who knows? Aedun is discreet, but he’s no mute.”
It was a grave matter for Ram, but Terdin brushed it off as trivial.
“What about Boti’s swordsmanship lessons?”
Boti, the knight currently guarding them from two hundred paces behind, was said to be the most skilled swordsman in the army.
Ram’s personal experience confirmed his precision and flair.
“I’m not sure.”
“What did you learn?”
“...A bit of... everything...”
“You can be honest.”
“...Honestly, I feel like I didn’t learn anything.”
“What did Boti say?”
“That my habits are bad. He even said, ‘You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, and you’re already old.’”
“Must’ve been discouraging?”
“No, I’m used to it. In fact, the people at Selken Castle didn’t like teaching me either.”
“Why was that?”
“I kept... asking questions.”
“Asking questions?”
“Whenever I learned something, I kept asking if it was right. People hate that.”
“Did Boti tell you not to ask?”
“Yes. He taught me how to grip a sword, and I asked why it should be held that way. He’d get angry and tell me just to follow orders. But I struggle with that, so I kept getting scolded.”
Terdin smiled faintly.
“Everything in life is probably like that, but swordsmanship involves mastering the rules to their limits, and then discarding them. You, however, question the rules from the start.”
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. Do you remember what I told you when I taught you?”
Terdin had taught Ram swordsmanship only once.
In that brief lesson, Ram received more praise than he had ever heard in his life.
In less than an hour, Terdin had told him three times, “You’re a pleasure to teach.”
“Yes, I remember everything.”
Ram had wanted to keep learning from Terdin, but as the commander of the army, he hardly had the leisure to teach swordsmanship.
Recently, he had been even busier negotiating terms of surrender.
“What was the main thing I emphasized?”
“You told me to think freely.”
“And you already do. There’s no reason to lose that freedom. Perhaps it was a mistake to try to teach you the basics. Who in this nation could possibly teach someone who cut down Mantum’s head while breaking through hundreds of guards?”
Though it sounded like he was scolding, Ram couldn’t tell if it was praise.
“Perhaps there isn’t even one other person in this country.”
By then, the five Geronians began to move.
One of their voices stood out, loud and clear.
“They’ve sent only two, as agreed. I’ll go with Shadow. The rest of you stay here.”
From the group of five, two riders came forward, leaving three behind.
As Terdin watched them approach, he quietly said,
“Watch closely, boy.”
His voice was soft, as if it were meant only for Ram, despite the distance.
It seemed he anticipated the possibility that the Geronians might have someone with sharp hearing, like Ram.
“And learn well.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Ram responded, though he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to learn.
“Only step in when you deem it absolutely necessary. Though I doubt I need to say this...”
As the Geron pair came within fifty paces, Terdin’s voice lowered further, barely audible over the distant hoofbeats.
“Never mention Adian Mantum to them.”
“Yes, Commander.”
It was a needless instruction.
Ram had no intention of speaking at all during the negotiations.
After all, what kind of slave would interrupt their master’s conversation?
That kind of caution would’ve been unthinkable for the Baron of Selken.
Yet, Terdin made sure to give such warnings, and Ram appreciated that.
He also liked how Terdin called him “boy.”
He liked the measured, considerate tone of his voice.
“Yes, Commander.”
And he liked how Terdin’s small gestures and glances acknowledged his responses.
With the Baron of Selken, even a simple “yes” had to be carefully calculated, and he would constantly worry if he had answered wrong.
But with Terdin, Ram felt at ease—even daring to ask questions of his own.
“I have another question.”
As expected, Terdin responded kindly.
“Go ahead.”
“Lieutenant Aedun told me the person coming to surrender today is the ‘king’ of the Geronians. But I thought their king was Mantum. Mantum is dead. So, who is this new king?”
“Well, that’s what I’m curious about too. We’ll find out soon enough.”
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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