Chapter 24 - Professor Frederick, Royal Tutor to Prince Henry
After Henry left to go dungeon delving with Truck-chan last week, I thought I might never see him again. Instead, now, the two of them are returning in high spirits. The cheery tone of her beeping horn is audible long before she rushes back out of the same cave entrance where she had entered.
Looking over the damage, I see that she protected the prince with her own body. In fact, the harm is immense. Any lesser warrior would have fallen. There are short, elven arrows sticking in her frame coming from all directions. More concerning are those that pierced through her canopy, leaving cracked glass and perforated holes.
If I couldn’t see the prince waving his arms, I would have feared the worst. Instead, I plaster on my best smile and congratulate them both. His armor bears a few scratches, but he is chattering loudly about the battle.
Edward, the master of arms, is the focus of most of the prince’s attention. However, I can hear enough to realize that his report contains critical strategic information. Moving quickly, I call for a meeting of the generals.
In short order, we are hidden away from the rest of the army within the draped cloth of the command tent. Once everyone has settled, I turn to the prince and give him a nod. Truck-chan stands behind him at his left, the proper place for a personal guard.
I can see Henry’s eyes dart about. He’s not accustomed to public speaking yet, but I’m sure the generals will pardon him due to his young age. Even if he regrets it, this will be a good experience with a forgiving audience.
“Yes. Umm. Me and Truck-chan, we went under the mountain.”
One of the generals glares at me. He thinks I’m wasting his time to glorify the young prince’s exploits. He doesn’t understand yet what Henry means, so I ask a question to clarify.
“You mean you went UNDER the mountain? To the other side?”
“Right! Truck-chan blasted a hole straight through!”
Now there are oohs and aahs. Even Edward, the master of arms, with his head full of meat sees the significance now. We’ve punched a passage through the enemy lines!
The same general that before was glaring at me is now shouting out praises, “This changes everything! The tides of battle have turned! Our forces can press at the front, but also attack at their rear!”
Another general agrees, “They’ll be forced to retreat to the other side of the mountain! All that remains is the Legate’s central region! We are so close!”
Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. I don’t want their spirits to rise too high, so I choose this moment to inject some reality into their dreams. “If they retreat, then the mountain will stand between us. How will we proceed?”
I watch as their faces fall. It’s a basic strategic lesson. War is never easy, but war in a far off land requires immense logistic supply lines. Furthermore, our troops will arrive tired and weary after a dangerous trip. Worse, we’ll be attacking the legion’s homeland, where their forces are strongest.
“It’s a stalemate!” offers Edward. I didn’t expect him to say anything. Deep thought has never been his strong suit. But, he’s hit the nail on the head.
One of our oldest military advisors thumps the map on the table, scattering pieces all over. “The mountain will be a natural barrier. We can’t win! In fact, it serves them even better than us!”
I’m not sure what he means, but I see other confused faces. I’m not afraid to ask him to explain. When I do, his face twists into a mask of rage.
“Can’t you idiots see it? We’ve lost the war by winning the battle! You think we’ve opened a second path? Now, we can go over or under the mountain, but so can they! Soon enough, there’ll be enough holes through that rock for a whole new nation to form! And humans don’t live underground!”
I feel the chill on my face and prickles of fear running down my neck. Is he right? I can’t see why not. What’s to stop the legions from claiming the dark passages beneath the earth? Once they’re entrenched, we’ll never root them out!
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Since nobody in the room dares to speak, the prince forces the issue with a question, “So we did the wrong thing?”
“Ahh… no. I’m sure it was a good idea.” The first general offers.
“Truck-chan didn’t realize the strategic implications.” Another general chimes in.
The prince has years of experience being mollified. He can sense when someone is trying to avoid a direct answer. “It was … an unfortunate error. But it saved my life, so now is not the time for regrets. Instead, we’ll set it right!”
“Hmm…” The old advisor rumbles. “Perhaps there is a way…”
We all look at him. He’s already proved that he’s the quickest mind in the room.
“... it depends on the depth of that hole you made. When you went into the cave, you went down before you went through, right? The question is how deep? If it’s deep enough, then there might be an old method that I know. We’d have to ask some miners.”
The discussion from that point moves between the generals. They even bring in some smelters and pitmen to get specific details. After that, they bring in some rivermen and start discussing the construction of a new canal. It quickly goes over the prince’s head, so I motion for us to leave. My excuse is that he’s just come back from an expedition.
To my surprise, Truck-chan stays behind to listen to the strategic discussion. She must be smarter than she looks? On the other hand, that serves my purposes perfectly. I’ll have some time now for a private discussion with the prince.
Once we’ve retired to his private tent, the prince stands still to allow Edward to remove his heavy armor. The layers underneath are stained with sweat and dust. Obviously, he’s been wearing it far too regularly during his expedition.
Edward is brave enough to provide a running commentary as he removes each piece of protection. “Did you sleep in this? You need to clean it each day! This padding underneath is chafed! It’s even worn through in spots. Ugh! You stink like a dead rat buried in a pile of rusty iron filings!”
“Are you saying I smell?” asks the prince. “I’ve been in battle after battle while keeping company of an unmarried woman for the last week. You have no idea how hard it is to get a single moment of privacy!”
This segues into the exact topic I was hoping for. “Prince Henry, were you able to strengthen your relationship with the heroine? Did… anything happen?”
“I got pretty good at understanding her blinky lights. I’m probably just as good as you now.”
“Hmm… yes. That’s nice. But more than that. Did you read her that book of poetry that I sent with you?”
“Sure! It was fun!”
“Fun?”
“We both laughed at the most embarrassing passages!”
“W-w-what? Embarrassing? That’s a renowned book of love poetry!”
“Really? Well, if you read it in a silly voice, it’s pretty funny.”
“A silly voice?”
I watch as the Prince switches into his squeakiest duck voice, “Oh how my yearning blooms within me like hot magma! This fiery pain is unbearable!”
“That’s an ancient poem of Georgio the Elegist! You should not mock it!”
The prince’s face falls, “I’m sorry. It’s even funnier when Truck-chan does it.”
“Truck-chan was reading love poetry to you?”
“Well… not really, but she can time her horn to go with the phrases, so I knew what she was saying. She knows how to make me laugh.”
“Hmph! Well… did you discuss the meaning of the poem with her?”
“Just like you said! But, we both felt really sorry for poor Georgio.”
“Sorry for Georgio? Oh, because of his unrequited love? Indeed, it’s said that the object of his affections, Sophia of Visto Spathi, was already engaged to another man.”
“Really?”
“That’s the rumor. But if you didn’t know that, then why were you so sorry for him?”
“Well… he felt like he had magma in his stomach! Did he go to see a doctor? Did he die?”
“Aaagh!” I suddenly realize that although the Prince knows many things, metaphor and simile are still beyond his understanding.
Edward pats the boy on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. If this Georgio fellow had magma in his gut, he wouldn’t have suffered very long.”
“So he died?”
“Uhh…” Edward looks at me. “He’s dead right?”
“Georgio’s one of the ancient poets! He died more than a thousand years ago!”
“Wow! It killed him that fast? That must have been some BAD magma!”
“He died peacefully, in his sleep!”
“Because of the magma?” asks Henry.
“Peacefully!”
One would think that would resolve it, but I can still hear the two of them whispering as I walk away.
“How could he die peacefully with lava inside of him?” asks the Prince.
“It must be one of those poetic euphemisms. It probably means excruciating pain.”