Глава 11

And I hadn't conceived that the most tasteful of all Londinium's critics was such a simple, unassuming teacher.

I could read into every line you'd written, and for each one, the hundred lines you hadn't besides—those were <i>your</i> words, Heidi, uttered by you.

Never would I doubt the unspoken understanding between us.

Then let me help you.

We can be more frank with each other, Heidi... just as we always have.

Golding... did I ever tell you that, years and years ago, I had the fortune of meeting a Laterano cleric who wasn't a Sankta?

She once lived in Londinium too. She may well have some ties to this school's origin.

Who is she?

She's...

Lady Golding, goodness!

Oh, hold on, you have a guest? Wh—Who might this be...?

A literary circle friend.

Is something the matter, Molly?

Outside, ma'am... I thought you would've heard...

From far away come strange noises.

The sort that Londiniers are quite inured to.

They confuse them all too easily, at first, with the sound of an exploding steam boiler carelessly lit, or the sound of the mechanical fowlbeasts the children so love slicing through the air.

But as the ground and building tremors become steadily apparent, an instinctual panic strikes everyone.

By protection of the kings, Londinium has never once met Catastrophe before. What they face now is without a doubt a different sort of menace—and in those of long age, something stirs. The nightmare of twenty years ago has come again.

The sign of war.

In the midst of the room's silence, the rumble grows thicker.

It doesn't make sense.

They were only catching a few criminals. Why'd they bring out such a display of force?

If we could make sense of every thought in the minds of our fellow man, many a tragedy would never come to pass.

Molly, if you could check whether the soldiers in the street are still there.

Yes, ma'am.

I have to leave now.

I know. I'd love to urge you to stay, but I know full well that not even heavy artillery could stop you.

I know you've noticed too, Golding. Another scene change is being wrought upon Londinium tonight.

The Duke of Stafford's troops are on the offensive at Parliament Square as we speak. The Duke of Cavendish's men arrived at the outer wall a long time earlier.

The coup d'état over twenty years ago, and the turmoil it brought, were at least the briefest thing for the citizens here. But this time... I couldn't say.

This will likely develop into an inter-ducal war, and its epicenter will have been Londinium.

I've... come into some intel. It has the potential to save tens of thousands of lives. The sort of thing I need to deliver out of the city before tomorrow's daybreak.

...War, you say.

I'm afraid so.

The fire of war could spread to other cities at a moment's notice. Every Victorian needs to make preparations.

Victoria's peace has endured for over two decades since His Majesty's passing. Many call it a miracle, but I long ceased to believe it a miracle of any sort.

No one would abandon their own interest, especially when its vastness is that of Victoria's... It instead gave those with the stuff to plunder it all the more to consider.

We pitiful that live in this crack of history could only simply shut our eyes and proclaim it so. 'Peace.'

Heh... who would've thought deathly illness would drive Stafford to such measures? And who could've predicted how the other dukes would respond?

Without the efforts of people such as yourself, this war would've broken out twenty-two years ago, instead of being delayed to today.

Are you trying to soothe me, Golding?

I'm only stating the reality, nothing more.

You needn't reveal your goals to me, Heidi, let alone explain what your people have been planning all these years.

You need only answer me one thing—will peace come again?

...It will.

That's what we've been striving for all along.

We will protect our homeland. That is the truth, throughout the ages, that we Victorians have believed in.

Even if countless will die in the streets outside? Even if, with each end in sight upon the road of yours, the next preordained war comes to greet you?

Indeed.

Because war <i>will</i> ultimately end. It may end at the hands of us, or our posterity. When the smoke clears from the skies shrouding Victoria, no more will the children's smiles be crossed with haze.

Very well.

I'm willing to believe in you, Heidi, to try and believe.

Should I ever be able to return to Londinium, Golding... then I'll tell you everything, when we meet again.

Remember that. Remember your promise.

...Come back alive.

Several hours later...

Ralph—where's Ralph gone?

Oh, heaven's sakes! Everything's a mess—how can he <i>still</i> be running about?!

Miss Molly, Ralph said grown-ups keep mentioning artillery but he's never seen it for himself...

Of all the...! He can't have gone out in the street?!

They've started firing out there already! The bolts and the shells flying all over—

I'll go and find him.

Lady Golding! It's far too dangerous!

Ralph!

I... I...

Come here, now—

*sob* Lady Golding...

Don't fear. Good boy. I'm right here.

Waah!

Let's hurry back—it'll all be better then, it'll all be alright.

Lady Golding! Ralph! You're back, oh, wonderful!

I'm sorry, Miss Molly.

Oh, you scared me to death, Ralph.

Are all the children here, then?

Yes, ma'am, I've counted.

A—About just now...

...A shell landed nearby.

What ever for? Just who exactly is warring with who?

It doesn't make sense. Everything was fine this morning. How could this have happened to Londinium so suddenly?

*sob*...

Don't cry, Molly. No tears in front of the children.

Yes, ma'am.

Hold my hand tight. At least we're all together.

We... we have the Defense Forces, and the Steam Knights!

They'll protect Londinium. They'll protect Victoria!

The Steam Knights...

I think I just saw them! Are they the really tall ones, in all black and...

It was a shadow from a streetlamp, wasn't it?

Liar! It was definitely one of the Steam Knights!

Tom the cobbler always goes on about them! He says how they're the symbol of Victoria's grandness!

'Hie over the valleys and over the rivers, rumble-ye-rumble, tell us the sound! Shalln't be thunder and shalln't be gale, the grand knights of grandest Victoria crowned!'

I knew that song when I was little too.

My singing teacher said that every year on the King's birthday, everyone'd gather in the Square to catch a glimpse of all the Steam Knights in formation.

Can a Steam Knight really fly?

Apparently, all they do is run very fast, faster than any lightning or storm. With all the steam they emit on top, they must look like they're stepping on clouds.

This is pants. We don't even have a king now. I've never seen a parade once.

Also, they told me their teacher once saw something even greater.

It was the year Victoria had just defeated Gaul, and to celebrate the then-King's birthday, dozens of Steam Knights all returned to Londinium together.

Their suits were draped in flags of Victoria, and once they'd all marched down the steps on the Palace of Westhaleg, it was like one giant flag all at once—