#96
The nights were quite chilly in autumn. Enrique looked down at the bustling camp from atop the castle wall. Soldiers were sitting around bonfires, thoroughly enjoying food and drink. Watching them made Enrique think of Anture. The allied forces, having minimized even their supplies for quick movement, wouldn’t be able to dream of such a feast. It made him uncomfortable to think that Anture, raised preciously as a prince, was enduring such hardships.
“Your Highness, it’s cold out here,” said Pol, who never left Enrique’s side, approaching to carefully wrap his coat tighter. Enrique patted Pol’s shoulder.
“You must be having a hard time following me around when your child is still young.”
Pol raised an eyebrow at Enrique’s words. “Has pregnancy made you more mature?” Pol said jokingly. Enrique chuckled and lightly hit Pol’s shoulder.
As they were chatting and looking down from the wall, the guard knights all suddenly turned their gaze to the side. Enrique followed suit and saw a man in Ruben commander attire approaching.
“Your Highness,” the man called out to Enrique.
“What business do you have?” a guard knight asked, blocking his way.
“I have an urgent matter to report to His Highness.”
When the guard knight still didn’t make way despite this, the man added in a lower voice, “It’s about spies.”
Enrique stared at the man’s face flickering in the torchlight. He wore a somewhat rigid expression. Though he couldn’t quite place it, the man’s face seemed slightly familiar.
“Your Highness, this is a matter I must report. It could seriously hinder our attack on Baron’s capital if not addressed.”
The man pleaded again.
Enrique nodded to the guard knight, who then finally made way. The man’s black cloak fluttered slightly in the wind with each step. He stopped a short distance from Enrique and knelt down in prostration.
“If it’s important, speak quickly,” Enrique commanded, looking down at the man. One part of his mind was still trying to remember where he had seen this man before. He knew the faces of all the Ruben commanders in Francia Castle. Since this wasn’t one of them, he must have come with the reinforcements.
“Actually, I secretly obtained some intelligence…” The man’s voice grew progressively quieter. Enrique leaned in to listen. If there was a problem with the attack on Baron’s capital, immediate action would be necessary.
“Among the troops encamped at Baron’s capital, there are spies from Baron and Monta…” The man’s voice became as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.
“What?” Enrique asked softly, taking a step closer to him. And in the next moment, the black cloak covering half of the man’s body fluttered widely, and something came flying with a swoosh.
Thud!
The impact that struck his entire body made Enrique stagger backward.
“Your Highness!”
“Your Highness!”
The guard knights called out to Enrique and rushed at the prostrated man.
Swoosh!
Just as Pol yanked Enrique back, the sound of something cutting through the air was heard again. Something unidentifiable brushed right past Enrique’s ear.
“You bastard!”
“Assassin! An assassin has attacked His Highness!”
The guard knights shouted loudly as they pinned the man to the ground. The noisy chatter suddenly ceased, and at the same time, the entire castle fell into confused murmuring.
“Your Highness! Your Highness!”
“Doctor! Call for a doctor!”
People began shouting chaotically. Enrique, fallen to the ground, tried to gather his dazed thoughts.
“Pol?” Enrique called softly to Pol, who was desperately calling for a doctor. Pol turned to look at Enrique’s shoulder area with a deeply distressed face.
The guard knights supported Enrique while continuously calling for a doctor. Only when Enrique followed Pol’s gaze did he notice the black shaft embedded in his shoulder. Seeing this, Enrique realized he had been hit by a crossbow bolt. Ridiculously, only after becoming aware of this fact did tremendous pain wash over him, feeling as if it would tear his entire body apart.
Enrique looked with angry eyes at the man being restrained by the knights. The man too was forcibly lifting his head to look at Enrique. Upon seeing his contorted face, Enrique remembered. Yes, he had definitely seen this man before.
“You are…” Enrique said softly, swallowing his pain.
“Do you know him, Your Highness?” a knight asked. Enrique nodded, gritting his teeth to bear the pain.
“He’s a Ruben commander who was guarding the camp before the castle fell. I had him whipped and imprisoned for disobeying military orders.”
“So he harbored a grudge and did this,” Pol muttered, glaring at the man as if to kill him.
Enrique’s back became damp with cold sweat from the immense pain.
It was fortunate the arrow had hit his shoulder; if it had struck his abdomen…
The thought alone sent chills down his spine.
“Take thorough measures to prevent him from committing suicide and lock him in the underground prison. And inform the Ruben side.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Several knights who had rushed over bound the man, gagged him, and dragged him away. Meanwhile, a military doctor came running in a fluster. He knelt beside Enrique.
“How is it? Will he be alright?” a guard knight asked urgently. The doctor silently cut away the cloth around Enrique’s shoulder with a small knife. After carefully examining where the arrow had pierced, he let out a sigh of relief.
“It has missed the heart, so that’s a relief for now. But whether it has nicked a major blood vessel won’t be known until we remove it.”
“What do you mean? Are you saying it could be dangerous to remove it?”
The guard knight pressed. The doctor nodded with a grim face.
“Let’s move him inside for now. We need to treat this in a clean place,” the doctor advised.
“Follow his instructions. And call for Duke Duvain…”
“Your Highness!”
Before Enrique could finish speaking, Duke Duvain and the Shamier commanders rushed over en masse. Their faces turned to stone upon seeing Enrique’s condition.
“Good heavens, Your Highness!” Duke Duvain approached and knelt down beside him.
With each heartbeat, pain resonated throughout Enrique’s body in sync. Cold sweat poured down like rain. It hurt so much he wished he could just faint. Enrique bit his lip hard to keep from screaming. He gestured for Duke Duvain to come even closer.
“There was an assassination attempt, but it must be treated as a failure. News of my injury must not leak outside. Especially not to Anture. Understood?”
Enrique emphasized, panting from the pain. Duke Duvain nodded heavily as if he understood. Then he stood up and began to control the situation.
“Painkiller…” Enrique finally requested from the doctor, trembling in pain. Fortunately, being on a battlefield, there were plenty of strong painkillers available.
“We have strong painkillers, but Your Highness, given your pregnant state… We’re not sure how these painkillers might affect a pregnant person. There is one that’s relatively safe, but its pain-relieving effect will be weaker,” the doctor said anxiously while rummaging through his leather bag.
“Give me the safe one.”
Enrique’s hand, extended towards the doctor, trembled violently from the pain. The doctor’s hand also shook slightly as he handed over the glass vial containing the painkiller, seemingly very tense.
Pol snatched the vial, quickly opened the lid, and carefully brought the bottle’s mouth to Enrique’s lips while supporting him. Even breathing, opening his mouth, and swallowing were followed by tremendous pain. Enrique forced himself to swallow the painkiller, suppressing the urge to vomit.
“We must move him carefully. If the embedded arrow moves wrongly and nicks a blood vessel, his life can’t be guaranteed,” the doctor warned earnestly, wiping cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
The knights briefly discussed and soon brought a stretcher used for transporting wounded soldiers. Perhaps due to the painkiller’s effect, Enrique’s mind gradually became hazy.
“You must not fall asleep, Your Highness,” the doctor said in an earnest tone. Enrique nodded, biting his lip tightly.
*
Carried to the bedroom, Enrique was immediately laid on the bed. Though the painkiller had somewhat dulled the pain, the agony that surged with each heartbeat was still tremendous. His entire body was soaked in cold sweat, with his hair and clothes clinging to his skin. Enrique took labored breaths filled with pain, gritting his teeth to suppress his groans.
Though the bedroom was full of people, no one made a sound. The Shamier commanders, including Duke Duvain, watched every move of the doctor with anxious eyes, biting their lips.
“Fortunately, the arrow has gone through. The arrowhead is protruding from the back, so if we cut it off first and then pull it out, we should be able to minimize bleeding.”
“I’ll cut the arrowhead,” said Duke Duvain, drawing a sharp dagger from his waist. Enrique and the doctor nodded simultaneously.
