The Forgotten Field - Chapter 105

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 105
Talia fixed them with a rigid, unyielding stare.
“Why are you staring like that? I hung it up for you to look at, didn’t I?”
At her caustic remark, the men who had been blinking while gripping their bowls of gruel awkwardly averted their eyes.
With a derisive snort, Talia shoved Barcas’s arm away and limped forward toward the carriage.
Barcas, following in her wake, seized her elbow. Talia turned to face him with a tense expression.
An ordinary noblewoman would have collapsed in shock or politely averted her gaze from the corpse. Was he reproaching her for conduct unbecoming a Grand Duchess? Her eyes gleamed with wariness, but Barcas gently turned her around.
“From here onward, we must travel on horseback.”
While she stood frozen by his unexpected words, he led her toward where the horses were lined up.
Talia opened her mouth urgently.
“I can’t ride!”
“Do not worry. Your Highness will ride with me.”
At his light whistle, Torque, who had been grazing in the pastureland, approached with his black mane flowing.
Talia stared at the grey warhorse—as if it had been twisted from steel—as though it were a terrifying monster.
Torque was a beast of an entirely different caliber from the Norneksan bloodhorse that Gareth paraded about for show.
With a frame more imposing than a standard destrier, a temperament as wild as an untamed stallion, and an arrogance that deemed all creatures save Barcas beneath contempt—
Talia despised this fierce horse that Barcas doted upon. And the feeling was entirely mutual with Torque.
The moment he saw her, the stallion snorted, and she hastily spun away. But Barcas immediately caught her by the forearm.
“Let go! I’m taking the carriage!”
“The road ahead grows treacherous. Should you ride in a carriage, you won’t last half a day before collapsing.”
“I’d rather collapse than ride that filthy, foul-smelling beast!”
Several Eastern Territories soldiers saddling their horses at a distance cast glances of disbelief. Their expressions suggested they found it utterly incomprehensible that such a person could exist who despised horses.
A people mad for horses, or so they said.
Talia clenched her teeth.
“Let go of me this instant!”
Barcas exhaled sharply, then lifted her effortlessly and set her upon the saddle.
Talia shrieked and clung desperately to Torque’s neck.
Barcas mounted behind her and pulled her rigid body against his chest. Talia forgot all shame and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. She was certain Torque would hurl her to the ground at any moment, and her legs trembled uncontrollably.
“Put me down. Please.”
“Relax and lean against me. I will not let you fall.”
Talia lifted her head sharply and shot him a venomous glare.
She wanted nothing more than to slap him across the face, but the fear that Torque might rear up kept her completely immobilized.
She enunciated each word through gritted teeth with force.
“Put me down right now!”
Barcas pretended not to hear her and flicked the reins. Talia clamped her mouth shut, fearing she might bite her own tongue.
Her vision swayed precariously with the horse’s movements. As a faint dizziness washed over her, she squeezed her eyes shut, and a familiar voice reached her ears from nearby.
“All preparations are complete. Shall we depart immediately?”
It was a retainer by the name of Darian.
Barcas nodded toward him.
“Divide the unit in two. Half will follow me, and the other half will follow behind with the supply wagons.”
At Barcas’s command, the mounted soldiers moved with perfect synchronization.
Talia, who had been watching the scene through half-opened eyes, discovered several more corpses hanging in one corner of the village plaza and shrank back. Noticing this, Barcas blocked her view.
“Do not dwell upon it.”
His curt voice grazed her ear. He turned his horse’s head as he continued.
“They plundered this village countless times. These displays serve to appease the residents’ fury and send a warning to other brigands—not to satisfy idle curiosity.”
Talia offered no response. With her lips firmly sealed, she watched as Barcas rode his horse up the hillside.
A wind carrying the scent of grass swept through suddenly. The faint cries of beasts that had echoed through the night mingled within it.
Unbidden, a frivolous thought flickered across her mind.
Would those criminals too be reborn as beasts and sing songs for someone?
Perhaps, someday, I too….
Gazing at the lush forest gleaming with verdant brilliance, Talia soon shed her hollow musings with a bitter smile.
* * *
The tour of the domain was now entering its final phase.
Having visited all the large and small villages throughout the Eastern and Western Regions, the cavalry turned northward. Following the river’s course with diligent haste, they arrived at their final destination: Tarlin.
The mounted soldiers who glimpsed the majestic sand-colored City Walls beyond the horizon let out a rousing cheer.
“We should be able to spend tonight in some comfort.”
Darian, who had pulled back on the reins to slow his pace, called out in a bright voice. Barcas made no reply, instead turning his horse’s head to survey the column following behind. Among the long line of supply wagons, a luxurious traveling carriage caught his eye.
When they had passed through treacherous terrain, he had forced her to sit upon his saddle, but given her frail constitution and timid nature, she could barely endure even two hours of riding.
The moment they emerged from the difficult passage, he had no choice but to place his wife back in the carriage. It seemed far better for her to remain within the swaying carriage under the influence of sleeping draught, enduring her nausea.
She was likely still drowsy from the medication, struggling with her discomfort.
Barcas, who had been watching the curtained carriage window, soon moved to the front.
It seemed he should reach their destination quickly so she could finally rest properly.
He spurred his horse forward, increasing their pace. Soon the City Walls surrounding the city drew near. As he raised one arm, the cavalry following behind lifted high the banner embroidered with a black horse emblem. The iron-bound Castle Gate swung wide open, and the bustling cityscape unfolded before them.
“You must have endured quite a journey!”
As they moved along the main avenue, the City Security Guard came forth to greet them. Barcas accepted their welcoming salute with a slight nod.
“Who oversees the administration of this city?”
“Count Temuran, sir. He was appointed directly by your father.”
A middle-aged man who appeared to be the captain of the guard answered in a measured tone.
“The Count is currently in poor health and recuperating at Tarlin Castle. He asked me to convey his apologies for not coming to greet you in person.”
Barcas gazed at the fortress rising prominently in the city’s center. While it appeared quite imposing at first glance, it seemed somewhat inadequate for accommodating hundreds of knights.
He issued instructions to Darian.
“Leave only a minimal garrison and find separate lodgings for the rest. See if we can rent an entire inn.”
“Understood.”
Darian left behind a dozen elite knights and Lucas Laedgo Sierkan, then headed toward the city’s outskirts.
Barcas gave a nod to his brother, who had become noticeably gaunt over the past few weeks.
“Do not stand behind me. Come to my side.”
“Would it not be acceptable for me to lodge at an inn with Darian….”
“Do not make me repeat myself.”
Lucas grimaced and slowly approached. Barcas, regarding him with cold eyes, turned his gaze back toward the guard captain.
“Lead the way now.”
“Ah… this way, please.”
The guard captain quickened his pace.
As I followed him deeper into the city, a sprawling plaza and an enormous castle came into view.
Barcas leaped down from his horse and approached a carriage standing at the edge of the open ground. Opening the door carefully, I found a woman slumped limply across the seat.
I climbed into the carriage and supported her back. The woman, roused from her light sleep, rubbed her eyes and let out a drowsy murmur.
“…Are we here?”
“Yes, we’ve just arrived. Allow me to carry you, Your Highness. Please rest a while longer.”
Barcas slipped his other arm beneath her knees and lifted her impossibly light frame.
The woman, who would normally have insisted on walking on her own two feet, surprisingly wound her arms around his neck without protest.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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