Chapter One: Assassin

"We think they're planning to try and assassinate the Maou."

Yuri Shibuya, 27th Maou of the kingdom of Shin Makoku, stared at his Chief of State (also his chief military leader) in amazement. "You have to be kidding!"

Gwendal looked over from the reports he was reading. "No. Yozak's reports from behind enemy lines are very clear. They're planning a direct attack on you. There hasn't been enough movement or troop increase for a full scale frontal assault. Therefore, it'll have to be a much smaller scale operation."

Yuri sat back in shock. "But…that's just nuts."

Conrad, the king's godfather, shook his head. "No. Your presence has improved troop morale and volunteer numbers immensely. Should you be harmed, morale will plummet. Also our current allies, who support you, may falter in their help. If the worst were to happen, and Dai Shimarron succeeded, I suspect most of our allies would completely flee the scene. It's possible our entire military force would collapse."

"No way." Yuri stared at his advisors with wide eyes.

Nearly two months ago, Dai Shimarron had invaded Shin Makoku and started their war of conquest. One month ago, Yuri had taken the field himself. He'd never wanted a war, had tried his best to prevent one, but he wasn't going to sit back and let his friends and people fight without him. Despite his deep sorrow that a war had occurred, he would not abandon those under his protection. He'd also hoped that he would be able to talk to the king of Dai Shimarron. He'd hoped to stop the fighting through negotiations. But King Lanzeel had refused to see him. In fact, he'd nearly killed Yuri's envoy. Only quick thinking had gotten the man out alive.

Yuri's dismal thoughts were broken by Gwendal. "We need to figure out what to do to protect the king. We may need to evacuate him to Covenant Castle."

"No way!" Yuri shot out of his chair, ready to defend his presence, but a dry voice interrupted.

"No, you really can't send Shibuya from the field." Everyone looked over at Yuri's friend, Ken Murata. Murata had been Yuri's buddy and supporter back on Earth. More importantly, he was the current incarnation of the Great Sage, a man all Mazoku held in reverence. Murata stepped forward to face the older Mazoku. "If Shibuya retreats, no matter what reason is given, the troops will lose heart. They'll think the king has abandoned them. The result would ultimately be even worse than if the king were killed. It's like Shinou. His presence is what holds things together. Besides…" Murata turned to face Gwendal. "Can you truly spare the troops needed to escort the monarch safely? Inadequate protection on the road would get him killed. Can you keep him safe?"

Gwendal sighed. "There's no guarantee. Very well, the Maou stays on the field of battle. But, not without appropriate protection. I want a full guard detail at all times, and special protection." He looked around, then went to stick his head out of the tent. Turning, he spoke to the group. "Myself, Conrad, Gunter, Wolfram, Gegenhuber, and Yozak will take turns, standing watch in pairs." He looked around. "I've sent someone after Hube and Yozak. We'll split into three watches. One turn guarding the king, one turn on the field, one turn sleeping. Agreed?"

Yuri would have liked to protest. He was sure he could take care of himself. But he saw Murata's slight negative shake, and after a minute, he realized why. In a chaotic scene, he might not see something coming. He sighed. He didn't like the idea of everyone standing watch over him, but this wasn't an argument he was going to win.

Less than two minutes later, Yozak and Hube came through the tent door. Both bowed to Yuri and to Gwendal. Gwendal brought them up to speed, promoted them on the spot to acting commanders of the army, and then they set out to pick watches. Hube paired off with Gunter. Conrad went with Yozak, and Wolfram wound up paired with Gwendal. It wasn't great, but it was the best that could be done. Then they took shifts. Yuri kept his mouth shut. Finally, the whole thing was settled, and they went back to the regular war planning.

For five days, nothing happened. They planned. The battlefield was a stalemate, with tiny skirmishes, nothing major. Yuri took his meals, visited the infirmary area, helped Giesela and the other doctors with the patients, and went back to his tent for a while. Later in the evening, he went around the soldier's tents, talking to people, getting the feel for the soldier's moods, checking to see what people needed. In between visits to soldiers he was kept busy with plans, tactics, and paperwork. The mundane needs of the kingdom did not go away simply because he was on the battlefield. Farmers still needed irrigation permits and taxes were still collected. Criminal activity was minimal, but he still had the occasional judicial question. Yuri did the paperwork as he did everything else, and tried to pretend that the two men who shadowed him were simply there for basic needs.

To be fair, they made it as easy as possible. He and Gwendal took care of things in the mornings, and Gunter gave him lessons in the afternoon. Conrad even played catch with him right before bed. But he couldn't miss the watchful looks, or the way his guards shifted every time he moved three feet. He wasn't used to Hube being there so often, or Yozak's silence. He couldn't miss Conrad's tired face when he got up. And as the days wound on, he couldn't help wondering if it was all pointless. Or perhaps if Lanzeel had planted the idea of an attack so his best generals would be worn out defending him.

The sixth day started much as the other five had. Yuri woke, dressed, and walked out to greet Conrad and Yozak, standing duty outside. Gwendal, naturally, was already up and about. He'd been up late with battle plans, and Yuri was willing to bet he'd gotten all of four hours of sleep. Still, it wasn't his place to question the way his Chief of State did things. So he simply smiled and addressed his godfather as he always did. "Morning Conrad!"

Conrad smiled. "And you slept well, Your Highness?"

Yuri grimaced. "I told you, don't be so formal. You're my godfather. And besides, if you're going to lose sleep every night on my account, you can at least call me by name." He let his humor answer Conrad's question.

Conrad smiled. "Yes, Yuri. But don't worry, as soon as Wolfram emerges, Yozak and I will be off to take our rest, I assure you."

As if that had been a cue, Wolfram stumbled out of Yuri's tent, fastening his collar with a yawn. Yuri, Conrad and Yozak all grinned. The younger lord never was much of a morning person. Yuri turned back to Conrad. "Okay, he's out. So go get some rest, and that's and order." He said it playfully, and both men smiled.

Conrad bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty. I believe Gwendal is waiting for you anyway. The morning field dispatches should be in now, and he'll want you to review them."

Sure enough, Gwendal was waiting by the command tent, and next to him was a soldier with a thick sheaf of papers. Yuri gave a silent grateful sigh that he'd made a lot of progress in reading and writing. He stepped forward to take the papers from the messenger.

What happened next occurred so fast he barely had time to register it. One moment he was stepping forward to take the papers, the next, the soldier lunged at him, something long and bright in his hand. Yuri heard Wolfram cry out his name, and then Gwendal was between him and the soldier. There was a dull thud of bodies colliding, and Yuri heard a low gasp from Gwendal. Then Gwendal was shoving the man away. Behind him, Yuri heard Wolfram's voice rise in a familiar incantation. "Hear me all particles of living flame…." Bright streamers of fire surrounded the would-be assassin, cutting off his escape. Seconds later, the culprit was surrounded by guards.

Yuri stood blinking, still struggling to process what had happened. That man…he really tried to kill me. He really attacked me. If Gwendal hadn't…I might be dead. Gwendal…he's all right, isn't he? What was that sound he made? He was still trying to form the question when Gwendal silently crumpled to the ground, blood dripping from the hilt of the dagger still buried in his chest.