The Conqueror from a Dying Kingdom, page 3
Rook took up the reins.
✧✧✧
As the eagle was beating its wings and preparing to take flight, Rook gave me some advice that he must have forgotten to mention until now: “Whatever you do, never open your mouth while flying.”
The g-force hit me like nothing I’d ever felt before as the eagle left the ground behind. It wasn’t the constant acceleration of an aircraft, it was more like waves of acceleration that came on with each beat of its wings. After gaining some height, the kingeagle increased its speed with several powerful wingbeats, and then it was flying for real.
The view below changed at a dizzying pace. In no time at all, we crossed the hills and a small river. We charged through a dense pocket of air while almost grazing the tops of the conifers below. Then the angle of the bird’s wings suddenly changed, sending us soaring directly upward, higher into the air.
We rushed up to the altitude of a high-rise building. Unobstructed by tall trees or the planet’s curvature, the view opened up and the world was spread out before us. It was as though the clouds had absorbed all of the moisture from the sky. The air was clear as far as the eye could see, and even the distant scenery looked sharp. It was beautiful.
It wasn’t like seeing the world from a tiny aircraft window, or from the lookout point of a mountain top. This was an ever-changing panorama, unobstructed in all directions. Everywhere I looked, my view was clear, and the world was breathtaking.
After we’d flown in circles for a short while, Rook manipulated the reins again, and the eagle began performing aerial maneuvers with graceful movements. It rolled over in midair, flipping the world upside down. With my body weight no longer holding me against the saddle, I felt myself instead supported by the safety harness around my waist.
A moment later, my weight was no longer supported by the harness as we transitioned into a free fall. I lost sight of the sky and horizon. Soon, the ground filled my view. We were falling, and soon we’d crash into the ground. A primal fear filled my mind, sending me into a panic.
But the free fall lasted only a few seconds. The eagle’s wings changed angle to once again catch the wind, gently shifting the bird into a horizontal path of flight. We were still a good height above the ground by the time we’d fully leveled off.
We must have been flying for around twenty minutes when familiar-looking buildings came into view below us—it was the ranch we’d set out from. I’d completely lost track of where we were, but Rook must have known precisely.
The eagle descended so quickly that I thought we might crash. Just before landing, it beat its wings several times to apply the emergency brake, and then it finally touched down gently upon the ground.
“Phew,” Rook sighed from his position above my head. He began removing his safety harness.
There was the sound of fittings clattering. Rook had himself free in under a minute, and then he immediately started removing my harness too.
Rook got off the kingeagle first and said, “Your dad’s here to catch you, so just jump down.”
I hesitated for a moment, but then I leaped down from the saddle. True to his word, Rook caught me and put me on the ground.
“How was that?” Rook asked, his eyes filled with anticipation.
“Awesome,” I replied, telling him my honest feelings. “It was an incredible experience. I really mean it.”
“Glad to hear it,” Rook said, sounding relieved. “Looks like you’ll be all right.”
“What do you mean?”
“With eagles. Some people just can’t get used to riding a kingeagle no matter what they do. They need both feet firmly on the ground.”
Ah. When children turn three... That’s when they’re tested to see how they’ll handle it. Someone with a fear of heights would have no chance.
“I think I can handle flying. I don’t know whether I’ll be a skilled rider though.”
“Don’t worry, I can see you’ve got potential,” Rook reassured me. “And if I say so, you know it’s true.”
“Really?”
When a family member said something like that, I was filled with a sense of happiness and embarrassment that felt wrong for someone my age. During my life in Japan, my parents hadn’t been the sort of people who’d given their son that type of praise. I hadn’t even known the whereabouts of one of my parents. As for the other, we’d eventually broken contact and never spoke again. Now it felt like my mental age had been dragged down to match my body. Rook’s praise moved me, and I had to react quickly to hold back the rising tears.
“Does everyone start training at this young age?”
“You didn’t like it?”
“That’s not what I meant at all. It’s just hard to imagine everyone doing this.”
“Well, the three-years-old thing is just our family tradition, but everyone has to start when they’re small. You’ll never be a sky knight unless you learn to ride solo before you’re fully grown.”
Is he saying that you can’t ride a kingeagle unless you train as a child? That’s a sad thought. These kingeagles must be valuable creatures. They eat meat, so they must cost even more than horses. If you have to start training as a child, only people from the wealthiest families will ever get a chance to ride one.
“Why’s that? Why can’t someone decide to learn after growing up?” I asked.
Kind of like how you can fly light aircraft as a hobby.
“Because a kingeagle can’t fly with two adults on its back. It’s too much weight.”
Seriously? That sounds like a harsh weight restriction.
“Then what about fat people?”
“Ha ha,” Rook laughed. “There are no fat sky knights.”
You can’t ride them if you get fat? Then I’m guessing Rook’s slim, muscular build is ideal.
“There are those who grow up and then want to ride a kingeagle, just like you say—merchants, for example, who get rich through some lucky business deal. And, um...let’s just say it doesn’t go so well.”
He must be choosing his words carefully so he doesn’t scare me. I bet they crash and die.
“You mustn’t ever ride one alone until you’ve got permission,” Rook warned. His expression had gone from the face of someone talking about their favorite topic to the face of an adult worried for their child.
“I understand. I won’t forget it.”
We were finished for the day, so we rode back home on a plainrunner. I spent the whole journey with thoughts of only one thing: kingeagles.
II
Time continued to pass, and when my fourth birthday was near, I made a request to my parents at the dinner table.
“Can I have an empty book for my birthday this year? Preferably one with a lot of pages.”
It was the first time I’d asked my parents for anything. They both looked surprised for a moment, but then Rook frowned.
“Yuri, what would you do with something like that?” he asked.
“It’s for a diary... I want to write down my thoughts.”
“Oh,” Rook exclaimed as he turned to Suzuya. “He can write already, can he?”
“Of course,” she replied. “In fact, I’ve nothing left to teach him.”
Suzuya was my language teacher, but there really wasn’t much more I could learn from her. That wasn’t to say that I’d gained a flawless command of the language, however—my mom’s knowledge was simply limited.
Suzuya had grown up on a farm, and Rook was a descendant of nobility. Her family’s farm wasn’t particularly prosperous, and her family name wasn’t even well-known locally. She was from a run-of-the-mill agricultural background, and she’d been raised like any other peasant.
Peasants in this country didn’t go to school, and religious institutions didn’t offer them any education either. At the very least, no education system of any sort existed in the area where Suzuya had grown up. She’d probably learned to read and write after marrying Rook—an unusual marriage in these parts, motivated by love—while they enjoyed life as newlyweds. She could write her own name and had no trouble reading signposts by the side of the road or the circular notices we occasionally received, but she was no scholar. Rook was technically a noble, so our home held a few books on law and some simple history books, but Suzuya couldn’t read them because they used difficult words.
At any rate, I wanted a blank book so I could write down the knowledge from my life in Japan before my memories faded and were lost forever.
“Please. If you’ll buy it for me, I won’t ask for any birthday presents next year or the year after,” I begged while bowing my head low.
“The thing is, books are a lot more expensive than you seem to think,” Rook replied. I sensed his tone slipping into his trademark lecture-from-dad mode.
“You’re right...” At times like this, my only option was to play the humble yes-man.
“It’s not that I mind buying it, it’s just that we’re not talking about a toy here. If you’re just going to scribble in it, it won’t be worth the money.”
Rook was absolutely right about that. The paper here was nothing like the printer paper or traditional washi found in Japan. All that existed was parchment made by removing the fur from an animal’s hide. Animal hides could be sold as furs just as they were, and making them into parchment required the extra trouble of stripping the hair, scraping the surface to create a thin sheet, and then cutting it into squares.
Needless to say, a stack of sheets that took so much labor to produce would fetch a high price once bound together in a book. I didn’t know how much they cost precisely, but I estimated that a book would be made from about ten hides, so I wouldn’t have been surprised if the value was somewhere between four to five hundred thousand Japanese yen. Obviously, blank books were less expensive since no one had spent time writing any text inside, but they would still cost a pretty penny.
I wasn’t asking for something as cheap as a new gaming console. I doubt many parents would have bought such a costly item at the request of a four-year-old who probably wouldn’t use it anyway. I’d told them I’d use it as a diary, but most parents would figure the child would use it for their doodles and tell them to just draw on wood instead.
But I wanted one despite all that.
Fortunately, mom had my back. “Darling, let’s buy it for him. Yuri is always doing chores around the house. I’ve never known him to want anything so badly.”
That’s right. You tell him.
“I know,” Rook said, “but a book would cost us four or five thousand ruga.”
“Oh... It’s that much?” Suzuya looked surprised.
Maybe surprised was putting it too lightly—astonished or aghast might have better described her expression.
Up until this point, I’d lived out in the sticks and I’d never actually been shopping, so I didn’t know how much four thousand ruga was. I wondered how many loaves of bread we could buy with that amount.
“Yes,” Rook continued. “Just think of the mountain of toys we could buy with a few thousand ruga. Why spend it all on a book?”
“I’ve thought hard about it and decided I don’t want toys,” I told him.
Toys are the last thing I need. They’ll all be wooden blocks or something.
“Please,” I persisted. “I’ll do whatever chores you give me. And I promise I won’t waste it.”
“Are you sure?” Rook asked.
Oh?!
“Absolutely sure.” I tried to look as serious as I possibly could, though I doubt my little face made much of an impact.
“All right...” Rook agreed. “You can start by working hard to help your mom. I’ll ask you to help on the ranch soon too. Promise you’ll do those things, and I’ll buy it.”
“Really? I promise.” I agreed without a second thought. I’d run out of new words to learn, so I was bored at home anyway.
“You really promise?” Dad didn’t look convinced. “This is a man’s promise.”
“Darling, you worry too much.” Mom came to my aid once more. “Yuri is the type of boy who keeps his promises.”
Judging by the tone of her voice, she had full confidence in me. That was actually a little worrying in itself—if anything, I was a lowlife.
“H-He is?” Rook replied.
“You’ll be buying the book in the capital, won’t you? Why not take Yuri there with you next time?” Suzuya suggested.
“To Sibiak?” he asked.
“It’s the first time Yuri has ever asked for anything, so he must really want it. If that’s the case, I think it’s best for him to pick it out himself. I’d hate to see him disappointed if you come home with the wrong thing.”
Nice backup. Mom’s absolutely right. Otherwise he might pick up the equivalent of a coloring book when what I want is a blank journal.
“That’s a good point. It’ll be a good chance to show Yuri the city too... I’ll be delivering a kingeagle next week. How about we go then?”
Seriously?
I’d just heard them use the word “Sibiak,” which, if memory served, was the name of our country’s royal capital.
I get to go to the capital? That’s more than I hoped for.
“I’d be delighted. Please take me with you. And thank you.” I broke out into a smile before I could stop myself.
When my parents saw the grin on their son’s face, they both smiled warmly back.
✧✧✧
A week later, I was riding a kingeagle with my dad toward the capital. It was further than I’d ever flown before. We crossed mountains, rivers, and several smaller communities until we came across something bigger—much bigger. It was undoubtedly a capital city.
Without having to be asked, Rook made the kingeagle fly in a circle around the city of Sibiak so I could take it in.
The place where I now lived was known as the Shiyalta Kingdom, and Sibiak was its royal capital.
I’d been imagining a large fortified city built on a plain or hilltop, but what I saw here was completely different. It was far from being fortified—in fact, there were no walls around the city at all. It simply extended across a flat region of land.
Sibiak was a city built along the banks of a great river, which had an island in the center. The river island formed a solid foundation, and the prominent towers of the castle built upon it appeared to soar to great heights even when viewed from the sky. It had to be the Sibiak Castle that I’d heard about in stories. And given that this was a kingdom, one would assume that a monarch lived inside. There was nothing primitive about the castle’s appearance—the whole thing was white, as if it had been decorated with delicate cosmetic stonework. The design wasn’t so much imposing as it was graceful.
Although the city had been allowed to spread out unimpeded, its sections—neatly divided by highways that formed precise, straight lines—suggested that this was a planned city. As someone who’d always been fascinated by medieval towns, I fell in love with this beautiful capital at first sight.
After we made a full circle around Sibiak, the kingeagle aimed its wings toward the island where the castle stood.
Once we were closer, I saw that the island was defended by a fairly high stone wall that ran along its circumference. I didn’t spot a place where a boat could dock, which meant that the bridge on to the island was its only entry point. The island itself was basically a fortress. Perhaps the city had been built with the notion that it needed no defensive walls as long as it was possible to hole up in the castle during a crisis.
I saw park-like areas lined with many trees dotted around here and there, and there was something resembling a military base near the island’s edge. The inner regions of the city included low buildings that looked like residences. As you’d expect from the center of any royal capital, the buildings were packed closely together.
Rook took the kingeagle down to the southern side of the castle, by the area that looked like a military base. Though the other open spaces were mostly parks covered by greenery, this one had simply been leveled and left bare, similar to a schoolyard. It was likely used for training exercises. Around it were crude buildings with unadorned black stone walls—further evidence that this was a military facility.
The kingeagle aimed for the empty space and descended with both precision and speed. Although I’d been allowed to take the reins myself several times in the past, I couldn’t imagine trying to land a kingeagle with pinpoint accuracy in such a small space like this. If, for example, the tips of the bird’s wings were to clip the walls or buildings on the way down, it would have lost its balance, gone into a tailspin, and quite possibly killed us both.
But Rook had overcome these difficulties without showing the slightest bit of concern. Once the kingeagle touched gently down, he released his belt and hoisted me off the bird. Since the moment we’d landed, someone had been approaching us from a shed where plainrunners were tethered.
“Hey, Rook.”
“Oh, it’s you, Galla,” Rook responded casually to the man I’d never seen before.
His name was evidently Galla. While I wouldn’t have exactly called him handsome, he didn’t look shabby either. He had an intimidating figure with short hair, and he was more muscular than Rook. I judged him to be a soldier of sorts. The populace must have slept easy with men like this in their armed forces. If everything was paid for by their taxes, he looked to be worth every penny.
“I’ve got a delivery here,” Rook told him. “Did you hear about it?”
“I heard. They said you were bringing a special bird for the princess.”
“It was a real headache, to be honest.” Rook frowned a little and awkwardly scratched his head. “They told me it had to be a young, high-quality kingeagle that a child could manage.”
People make that sort of order too?
“Bwa ha ha ha!” Galla erupted in laughter. “That’s what they asked for?”
There must be a good-natured man behind that mean face of his.
“Anyway,” Rook continued. “I brought our most well-behaved bird. Hope you get some good use out of it.”
“Oh, we will. Though I won’t be riding it.”
