Under the Oak Tree - Vol 2 Chapter 84

Vol 2 Chapter 84

Maxi did not have to look back to know that Riftan was staring furiously after her fleeing figure. Straightening her back, she did her best to look dignified. Only after she was certain they were no longer visible did she glance over her shoulder. After carefully scanning the surroundings, she looked up and caught Kuahel staring down at her as though she were a strange creature.

Embarrassed, Maxi gave a small cough. “Y-You said… you had something to ask me about the basilisk farm?”

“Specifically, to confirm something about the tunnel connected to the farm.”

Kuahel’s reply was curt. Seeing that he had no intention of chastising her for her scandalous behavior, the tension eased from Maxi’s shoulders.

“But I have already given you my report… that contains everything 1 know about the tunnel.”

“I doubt that. There are always details that cannot be documented,” he replied, briskly leading them to where the soldiers were dismantling the tents.

The men were almost done with the packing by now. Kuahel led her into a military barracks that had not yet been taken down. Standing at the entrance, Maxi glanced around the dim tent. Dying embers flickered in the brazier on one side, and next to it was a long table with several chairs. She presumed this was where the Temple Knights held their meetings.

Kuahel removed a roll of parchment from a small chest and unfurled it across the table.

“To utilize the tunnel in this war, we must know everything about it. You are the only person who knows its entire structure.”

“A-Are you planning to infiltrate the city through the tunnel?”

Maxi walked over to the table to examine the map. The yellow parchment contained a rendering of the Pamela Plateau, the same one she had seen at every strategy meeting. Opening an ink bottle, Kuahel checked its contents before handing it to her.

“That would be ideal, but the risk is too great. The tunnel is simply too long. Reaching the city from the basilisk farm would take at least five hours. If the monsters were to destroy the tunnel or trap us inside, it would be a grave problem indeed.”

His words chilled Maxi’s heart.

“If the tunnel’s exit works in the same way as its entrance…” she said, “it would certainly make it difficult for our army to infiltrate that way.”

She recalled the moment she had dived into the tunnel after the goblin. They had been forced to keep going down only because they could not reopen the hidden door. As long as the door’s mechanism remained a mystery, the tunnel was as good as useless.

“Most of the hidden doorways created by the dark mages were decorated with a sculpture of a snake’s head. Moving that… opened or closed the doors. We also found similar devices within the ruins… but we were unable to figure out how to operate them.”

“That is what we must find out,” Kuahel said resolutely.

Maxi nodded, her expression grave. “I’m sure… there are records regarding these devices. 1 have yet to take a look at them since 1 did not deem them important… but 1 shall do so right away.”

“Good. Now, 1 need you to draw the layout of the tunnel.”

Maxi furrowed her brow. “My knowledge of it… is rather vague. As you know, I only had time to confirm that the tunnel was connected to the city.”

“A rough sketch would suffice. It would be better than nothing,” he said flatly. He addressed the soldier standing by the entrance. “Bring us a meal for two.”

With that, the Temple Knight sat at the table and motioned for her to get to work without even asking for her consent. Though she was irritated by the man’s arrogance, Maxi reminded herself that he had just rescued her from what could have been a humiliating situation. With a sigh, she pulled out a chair and sat down.

***

After maneuvering through the Pamela Plateau’s narrow ravine, the army cut across a snowy plain. They traveled around twenty to twenty-five maltions(approximately 32 to 40 kilometers) each day, and sometimes covered forty maltions(approximately 64 kilometers) if the conditions were more agreeable. Nonetheless, the speed of their progression gradually slowed with each passing day.

The grueling march quickly wore out the infantry. It became increasingly difficult to lead the troops, with some divisions starting to lag behind. Atop his horse, Riftan furrowed his brow as he inspected the soldiers.

“We should slow the march.”

Princess Agnes, who was riding to his right, knitted her brows. “We cannot go any slower. To conserve food, we should be making even more haste.”

“There is a limit to the distance the infantry can cover in a day on foot. If we keep driving them like this, most will collapse before the fighting even begins. We should give the men more time to rest between marches so they can recuperate and limit a day’s march to twenty maltions.”

After casting a pensive look over the Wedonian army, the princess reluctantly nodded. “Agreed. I shall bring it up with the other commanders tonight.”

Riftan looked to the armies of Balto and Arex marching far ahead. While Kuahel was likely to follow their directive, no doubt Richard Breston and the commander of the Arexian army would prove stubborn. Both men were annoyingly rash, and they had been imposing this relentless pace with no consideration as to how much their men could take.

Riftan scowled in irritation. “Don’t tell them it was my suggestion. That will only give them a reason to oppose it.”

Agnes replied with a bitter smile. Riftan had refrained from speaking during the strategy meetings as much as possible, namely because of Breston, who had a habit of picking holes in everything he said. He did not want the plan he was forming in his head to be ruined by that man, nor did he wish to make this campaign any more difficult by stirring unnecessary strife.

Riftan spurred Talon on as he pored over his almost fully formed plan. He would have to convene with the other commanders to explain it in due time, but he intended to delay that meeting for as long as possible. It would not do to give his opponents an opening to find fault.

He swept his gaze over the marching Wedonian army as he mulled over how he was going to deal with Richard Breston. Just then, his eyes landed on his wife’s pale face among the darkly-tanned soldiers. He reflexively pulled back the reins. Having dismounted, she was walking in step to the soldiers’ marching. It appeared she had gotten off her mare to ease the creature’s burden however she could.

He silently watched her before his face crumpled into a furious scowl. Maxi had walked up to Ruth’s bent figure and was pushing the stumbling mage from the back with both hands. Riftan’s lips thinned as he looked on over the pathetic scene. He was well aware that his wife felt at ease with Ruth and that their relationship was purely platonic. Nevertheless, he still felt a branding iron searing his skin whenever he saw how familiar they were with each other.

He searched his memories to recall if she had ever treated him similarly. Perhaps she had once, but those times were long past. Now they were no better than strangers. He also knew that the blame was solely his.

After bitterly watching Maxi and Ruth, Riftan steered his horse away. Suddenly, faint screams sounded in the distance. He jerked his head toward it. The soldiers ahead of him stopped their march and began murmuring among themselves.

At first, he could not comprehend why the men had stopped. A second later, the scent of blood carried over to him on the wind. He rode past the knights, who were doing their best to get the soldiers back in formation, and galloped across the field to the head of the army. He reined Talon to a halt as he spotted the pool of blood-soaked snow on one side of the hill. Headless corpses were piled next to it, their pasty, severed heads displayed on pikes nearby.

Riftan took in the gruesome sight through narrowed eyes before approaching one of the knights standing next to the corpses. “What is the meaning of this?”

The northerner shrugged and said calmly, “They are Baltonian deserters who tried to run away with our provisions.”

Riftan’s face hardened. The displaying of corpses was a cruel punishment reserved for those who had committed atrocious crimes like treason.

After scanning the soldiers murmuring in agitation, Riftan barked, “Take down the heads at once! Did you not consider the throngs of monsters that would descend on us with all this blood?”

“But Sir Richard commanded that they be put up to serve as an example. More fools might attempt to desert if we don’t,” the knight replied, looking disgruntled.

Riftan stared the northerner down before bringing his sword to the man’s neck.

“If you do not take those heads down immediately, yours will be put up next to them.”

A hint of fear rose on the man’s face at his threat. After warily looking up at Riftan, the knight begrudgingly began removing the heads. Riftan watched the man, his gaze thunderous, before giving his orders to the Wedonian soldiers waiting behind him.

“Help them bury the bodies!”

A few men rushed away and returned with shovels. They began digging into the frozen soil, and Riftan stationed himself near to oversee the burial. His face suddenly clouded when he spotted Maxi among the murmuring crowd of soldiers.

Her face was pale as she stared at the pikes in horror. It was no use — having seen her terror, he could no longer bring himself to stay away. He leaped down from Talon and strode over to her. Grabbing her by the arm, he spun her away and marched her through the spectators. The palpable shock in her eyes pierced like a dagger to the chest..