News of the Lusitanian defeat reached Ecbatana as the sun moves east to west.
“The fortress of Saint Emmanuel fell, and almost everyone in the fortress, including Count Baracacion, died in battle or by suicide. However, some of the sick and wounded were spared by the Parsian army. The Parsian troops will likely leave Saint Emmanuel within the next few days…”
“We lost another fortress in only one day? Useless fools!”
After cursing in disappointment, Guiscard muttered “Rest in peace, O souls!” and a few other prayers. Not out of piety to God, but a sense of grief for the dead. Leaving aside the ability of the old man Baracacion as a military general, he was still a respectable man.
“It would have been better to have let that old man manage the books, it was really a mistake to let him command the fortress. And it was really unwise to let that Bodin guy have sole management of the books in Lusitania, Maryam and Pars.
However, there was no use fussing over the responsibilities of those who were not here. Guiscard summoned his courtiers, who appeared uneasy, and again intimidated everyone.
“The continental highway is now paved with sweat and blood, and the Parsians are quickly approaching. The fire of vengeance is burning in their eyes, and they are eager to reclaim the land of their ancestors.”
The two generals, Bauduin and Montferrat, seemed to be emotionless, but the other courtiers caused a commotion.
“Once again, I want to make it clear to all of you that this is a matter of our survival, and that everything we’ve gained since the victory at Atropatene could be forfeited overnight. But I hope that you will help me, Guiscard, by suppressing your selfish thoughts and embracing humility. Is this possible? Gentlemen?”
Guiscard was arrogantly ignoring the presence of his brother. The courtiers nodded together, but a disgruntled voice rang out.
“We have the protection of God, so there is no way we will lose to the infidels.”
“Oh? Then you mean to say that the fortress of Saint Emmanuel had no divine protection?”
Gazing at the speechless courtiers, His Highness the King’s Brother strengthened his voice.
“Don’t speak God’s name with that tone. He will only love us if we do our best. Only by bettering ourselves can we open the path to God’s heart.”
Guiscard didn’t really have such a deep faith. The nobles, military generals, officials, and commoners of Lusitania should not worship any gods but him, Guiscard. If Yaldabaoth was really all-powerful, he would have made Innocentis VII a wise king long ago, wouldn’t he?
Montferrat and Bauduin calmly swore to follow the orders of His Royal Highness, and the other nobles and courtiers followed suit. Guiscard skillfully used intimidation and a sense of personal eagerness to make them obey and strengthen their trust in himself. Satisfied for now, Guiscard dismissed the meeting.
“Silver Mask has returned.”
This report came in just as Guiscard had finished a large meal and was about to leave the table.
“Has he brought an army?”
“He has with him only about a hundred horsemen, the rest remained at Zabul fortress.”
Guiscard’s left eye twitched for a moment. He hated Hilmes for this abomination. Did he want to use Zabul fortress as his base? Did he just assume that Guiscard could not kill him, or even punish him at the moment? Guiscard hated him with a passion, but he couldn’t cut him off. Now that there were enemies in the east, he could not make enemies in the west as well. If the capital was left empty in order to face Arslan’s army, the enemy might come in from the west, and then Guiscard would go down in history as a hopelessly incompetent person.
When Silver Mask appeared in front of Guiscard, he bowed respectfully, but his tone of voice and the words he spoke were not so respectful.
“I heard that the Lusitanian army has continuously lost its eastern strongholds one by one, and that Andragoras’ brat is already halfway to the capital.”
“Those are mere rumors. Since ancient times, rumors have been nothing but poisonous weeds blooming on the seedbeds of ignorance; were you distracted by their flowers?”
Guiscard’s mocking words slipped over the smooth surface of the silver mask. To Guiscard, the mask that hid the other’s expression was the target of his hatred. He had been suppressing such feelings when he first met with Silver Mask to talk about the initial conquest of Pars. But he could only take him at his word that he was wearing the mask because his face had been badly injured.
On the other hand, Hilmes had not come to Ecbatana specifically for the purpose of mocking Guiscard. The news of Arslan’s advance and victories made it impossible for Hilmes to stay peacefully in the western fortress of Zabul. He had to admit that he was a step or two late compared to “Andragoras’ brat”.
Still , he could not give up Zabul fortress, and if he’d returned with more than 10,000 troops, there was no guarantee that the overly-suspicious Lusitanian army would allow them to enter the city. After a few moments of deliberation, Hilmes had decided to leave Sam to guard Zabul while he rushed back to the royal capital. When Guiscard finished his sarcastic words, Silver Mask suddenly uttered a very surprising sentence.
“My real name is Hilmes, and my father’s name was Osroes.”
“What? Osroes!?”
“Yes, Osroes, the previous king of Pars. My father’s brother was Andragoras, the abominable man who killed his brother and usurped the throne.”
Guiscard was silent, and his silence expressed his astonishment. He had jokingly said to his men before, “Maybe Silver Mask is a member of the Parsian royal family.” If this was the truth, things would become even further complicated.
“What’s going on? Can you explain to me in detail?”
“Of course, I was planning to.”
Guiscard then heard from Hilmes the dismal history of the royal family of Pars, which was a dark battle of brothers provoked over a woman. Fratricide, usurping the throne, and eventually, killing his nephew as well. This is no less than the history of Lusitania, also coated with dirty blood, and the secrets of the royal capital. Guiscard was shocked, but he knew that Hilmes’ words had been truthful from beginning to end. After Silver Mask finished speaking, Guiscard took some time before asking.
“But why did you tell me this now? What’s your plan?”
“His Highness the King’s Brother has been kind to me, and I hope that we can still join forces in the future to work together for a great cause. I am revealing my secrets now because I trust Your Highness.”
The future King of Lusitania was not so stupid as to truly believe the words of Silver Mask.
Was it jealousy? Guiscard pondered Silver Mask’s intentions. He had already revealed his feelings by calling Arslan “Andragoras’ brat”. Perhaps he did not see Arslan as an equal competitor. However, the reality of the situation required ignoring Hilmes’ pride and moving forward.
If things continued to develop, Arslan would become the one to reunite the people and the army of Pars and become the hero that saved the country. If things went on like this, and Hilmes appeared afterwards to declare the legitimacy of his throne, no one would spare him a glance. Although Arslan was the son of the usurper, if he had liberated the land and the people with his own strength, Hilmes’ claim would have been treated as a joke and completely ignored. It was probably because of this concern that Hilmes wanted to make his existence known now.
Silver Mask, do you think that the bravery and skill of the Lusitanians will not be able to withstand Arslan’s army?
Guiscard changed his face slightly. From all angles, this man named Hilmes was really unpleasant. Wasn’t it hypocritical to advocate for the legitimacy of his throne, as well as the ambitions of Guiscard, who also wanted to usurp his brother as king?
A strange feeling overcame Guiscard. Suddenly, he remembered King Andragoras, who had been locked up in the dungeon for almost half a year. If Andragoras really had killed his brother to become the king, then he is not the first to attempt such an ambitious move.
“I must go to Andragoras and ask for clarification.” Guiscard’s mind turned as he thought.
“Arslan has gathered 40,000 to 50,000 troops and has already taken two fortresses from our army. Can you stand against the might of his soldiers?”
“That can’t be called military strength at all, that boy is just relying on others.”
“Well, I have an idea, Silver Mask, or, Lord Hilmes. There must be a reason for a man to be able to gather so many soldiers, and it takes considerable talent to command that many soldiers, doesn’t it?”
“Andragoras’ brat has no power to speak of. He is merely pushed around by those close to him and manipulated like a puppet. That has nothing at all to do with talent or wisdom.”
“Ah, I see.”
Guiscard did not agree with him, but he understood from the gaze Hilmes shot through his mask that this matter could not be solved by jokes or mockery. Although Guiscard had learned some sword skills, he was not confident that he could defeat the agitated Silver Mask in a one-on-one confrontation. There was a group of fully armed knights outside the room waiting to move, but there was no need to act rashly at the moment.
Guiscard could also just let Hilmes and Arslan fight each other to decide the issue of succession to the throne of Pars. In this situation, instead of relying on convoluted strategies, it was better to adopt the original plan and gather a large army to crush Prince Arslan’s army head-on. With this in mind, Guiscard sent Hilmes back without making any promises.
Rukhnabad Translations 