Finding the Hidden Picture (2)
The place I set my course for after leaving Maidheaden was the Rosedale Barony — the easternmost reach of our domain.
Father had all but begged me to take an escort, insisting that even a handful of guards would be better than none. I refused. If I had watching eyes at my side, the purpose I had actually come for would become next to impossible to achieve. It took the better part of an hour to fend off his entreaties, and only then did I finally manage to set out alone.
And while the troll incident had certainly been a shock, the south as a whole was, by imperial standards, an exceptionally peaceful region. In the original story, Eugene had wandered through any number of territories — but he had never once set foot in the south.
The south harbored no particularly large monsters, enjoyed a temperate climate, and possessed soil rich enough to make it near-ideal for human prosperity. It was, in no small part, why our house had been able to swell its power so rapidly. The sole misfortune that could be laid at this land's feet was that, in the war against the demon race yet to come, it would find itself standing on the very front line.
A full day's hard riding from Maidheaden brought me to the checkpoint at Rosedale's westernmost edge. The guards looked thoroughly astonished when I presented my house's token and identified myself — apparently the thought of a high noble turning up in a backwater like this had never crossed their minds.
I asked them to keep the matter quiet and made it clear I wished to pass through without fanfare. I was, it seemed, far too important a personage for a pair of checkpoint guards to simply hold their tongues. Within half a day of leaving the post behind, I found myself face to face with Baron Rosedale, who had come out to receive me.
"Young Master Edwin! What brings you here without so much as a word of notice?"
"It's been some time, Baron. I trust you've been well?"
Had it not been for his attire and the retinue at his back, I might have taken him for nothing more than a country elder. He was an unassuming old man with hair gone entirely white and a beard grown long, and he wore the genial look of someone who had never stood on ceremony in his life.
Caught as I was, I had little choice but to explain why I had come. Baron Rosedale had not attended the recent council, and so knew nothing of the troll. When I told him, the shock on his face was plain.
"Good heavens. I heard it with my own ears, and I still can scarcely believe it. A troll, here in the south…"
"I saw it with my own eyes and I feel the same — I can only imagine how it sounds to you. In any case, my father ordered me to inspect the more neglected villages east of the castle and hear what the residents have to say. That's what brings me here."
What I offered the Baron was, of course, only the official reason. He listened, then nodded as though it made perfect sense.
"Mm. If that's the reason, then of course there's no cause to refuse you. Still, to take the initiative on a matter like this at your age — truly remarkable. I only wish my own son would take a page from your book, haha."
"You flatter me. More importantly — I had no choice but to identify myself at the checkpoint, but I'd prefer to travel alone and quietly, to keep from agitating the people of the territory. Can I count on your cooperation?"
"If that's what you're asking, Young Master, I've no reason to refuse. But will you be all right? I hate to say it of my own land, but Rosedale hasn't got much of anything. The population is sparse, the region quite backward — we're short on facilities of every kind."
"That much is no trouble. While I have you, Baron, I did have a few questions. Which village in Rosedale lies furthest to the east?"
"Furthest east… if memory serves, Kirkside, Easthall, and Goldford. Those three sit closest against the eastern Wasteland."
"I see. I thought I might start with those three, being the most remote. Anything I should know? Any peculiarities, points of caution — even local character?"
"Points of caution? Haha, nothing of the sort. They're just country villages. Ah! Speaking of local character, Easthall does have a curious streak. I expect you'll understand what I mean once you see it for yourself."
A curious streak? I had been listening without any particular expectation, but at that my ears pricked up at once. I had the sudden feeling I might have just been handed a lead. I asked the Baron to elaborate.
"Haha, calling it curious seems to have caught your interest. In truth, it isn't all that remarkable. The people of Easthall have been known for generations for their size, and for turning out more than their share of handsome men and beautiful women. It isn't widely talked about, but anyone who lives in these parts knows the story."
"And it isn't only their build — they're extraordinarily strong. At labor, one able-bodied man from Easthall will routinely do the work of three from any other village. Really, what do they even eat out there besides potatoes, to grow so strong? We joke amongst ourselves, now and then, that they grew up drinking the magi that seeps out of the Forbidden Zone."
Large of build, and striking to look at besides…
It was hardly conclusive, but it was enough to raise a suspicion. I had come east more or less on a hunch, and I won't pretend I hadn't been at a bit of a loss for where to start. A clue of even this much was enough to make the path ahead feel a little clearer.
"I see. You've only made me more curious, Baron. What sort of man is the village chief?"
"Ah — the present chief is the second of his line, and I'm told he has a very capable hand at running the village. They've never once been late with their taxes. His health, though, doesn't seem to be what it should. He scarcely ever leaves his house, and when something needs doing outside, he delegates it to villagers he's close with. He's a young man, as I understand it. I do wonder how it came to this…"
The Baron clicked his tongue, the regret on his face entirely genuine. Well. If my guess was right, there was another reason entirely that the man never showed his face. I had, I thought, gotten everything I was going to get from him.
"That's more than enough. After hearing all that, I do believe Easthall should be my first stop. Your thorough explanation has been a great help. Thank you."
"Not at all. Rosedale may be a countryside of no particular use, but we have always been House Reed's loyal servants. That you know as much is more than enough to content this old rustic. If you should need anything at all, please — do stop by the castle. I'll help in any way I can."
I exchanged farewells with the Baron, mounted again, and rode on. Following the road he had described, I traveled another full day before I at last arrived at what was unmistakably the village of Easthall.
A high fence encircled the outskirts. Two men stood watch, one on either side of the road, and both of them were built on a considerable scale. One of them spotted me and beckoned me closer.
"Welcome to Easthall. What's the purpose of your visit?"
"I'm a traveler passing through the south. I happened to notice the village and thought I'd stop in. There's nowhere nearby to spend the night, which has put me in a bit of a bind — would it be possible to stay just until morning?"
I had decided, for the moment, to play the traveler. If my suspicions were correct, I could not begin to predict what might happen here if my identity became known at once — unlike at the checkpoint.
The two guards exchanged a look. After a moment, one of them stepped forward.
"I'll go report it. But as a rule, our village doesn't receive outside visitors unless there's a special reason. I wouldn't get my hopes up."
With that, the guard disappeared into the village. I sat down at the roadside and waited, idly braiding blades of grass between my fingers. He returned some ten minutes later, came to stand beside me, and spoke.
"You can come in. As I said, lodging is out of the question — but I believe we can at least offer you a cup of tea. Now, before we let you into the village, a brief search, if you would…"
Yes. Perfect. I cheered inwardly. I had been turning over what I would do if they refused me entry altogether. Once I was inside, I would find a way.
I submitted to the search and followed the guard into the village. I crossed eyes with several of the residents as we went; they watched the stranger in their midst with open wariness, tracking me carefully. And just as Baron Rosedale had said, they were — men and women alike — almost uniformly large of frame and fine of feature.
Unlike an ordinary country village, the greater part of the population looked young. And yet I could not find a single child. The details were piling up, and with them my suspicions grew steadily heavier.
Lost in such thoughts, I found that the guard and I had already reached a large mansion at the village's center.
"This way, please. This is the residence where the village chief lives — we use it as a place to receive guests on the rare occasion an outsider comes through. The chief is unwell, however, so even once you're inside, a face-to-face meeting will likely be difficult. I hope you'll understand."
The guard saw me as far as the front door, then turned and went back to his post. I opened the gate and stepped inside, and found a young woman in plain clothes waiting for me.
Her dress was simple. Her face was not. She was a beauty of the first order — striking enough that she would not have suffered in the least beside the polished noblewomen of the capital. One thing, however, stood out: around her neck hung a necklace that had no business accompanying so modest an outfit.
It looked to have been strung from animal teeth and small gemstones, and it threw off a wild, almost feral air in every direction. That necklace, unexpected as it was, was the last piece. It completed my certainty.
Found you.
I had to make a desperate effort to keep the satisfaction of that thought from showing on my face. The woman approached, inclined her head, and greeted me.
"Welcome, sir. My name is Isana. I handle the receiving of guests in place of the village chief, who is unwell. This way, if you would…"
She led me to a reception room deeper in the mansion, seated me, and asked me to wait a moment. She returned shortly with a kettle and two teacups, and set them out before me.
"We're only a humble country village, so I'm afraid a floral tea is the most we have to offer. I hope you'll forgive us if it falls short of what you're accustomed to."
"Not at all. I hadn't expected any hospitality, so this already feels more than I deserve."
"Heh. You're a very generous-minded guest. But as the guard will have told you, our village does not receive outside visitors — particularly not overnight. It's a standing rule of the village, and the chief's health has been poor of late besides… In truth, even allowing you into the village at all is highly unusual. I hope you'll be so good as to understand."
"Haha. That's a relief, actually. I didn't come here looking for a place to stay."
"I beg your pardon…?"
She had been circling politely toward a refusal of lodging. When I told her that hadn't been my purpose to begin with, a flicker of confusion crossed her face. I had confirmed her identity well enough. There was no point in going around it any longer. I decided to be direct.
"So. How are you finding the Western Continent?"
"I'm sorry…?"
"A remarkable disguise, I have to say. Anyone who didn't know better would have been taken in completely. Even looking at you now, I can't find a single thing that sets you apart from us."
"Sir, I don't know what you mean, but I think the jest has gone a bit far. That's enough…"
"Spare me the act. Do you still not understand what I'm saying? I'm giving you a chance to come clean on your own."
A brief silence followed. Then the face of the woman who had been staring at me in bewilderment twisted, all at once, into something vicious. Her pupils stretched and split, vertical as a serpent's, and from either side of the crown of her head small nubs pushed forth and swiftly lengthened into horns.
In an instant she unleashed her aura, and it flooded the room to the walls. The tea, which had been steaming warmly only a moment before, had gone ice-cold. From her throat, as she fixed me with that stare, came a voice that hissed like steel dragged across stone.
I won't deny that chilling voice rattled me a little. I steeled myself all the same. I still had a great deal left to do here — if I let her crush me in a contest of presence this early, I wouldn't get a thing done.
"Who am I, you ask…"
I lifted my chin, looking down at her, and swelled my voice to sound as arrogant as I possibly could.
"If you insist on asking, I suppose I ought to answer. My name is Edwin Reed. Even your kind have been settled here long enough — surely you've heard of our house, at the very least?"
"Reed… Reed, you said…?"
"That's right. My father, Albert Reed, is the Guardian of Maidheaden and a Count, his authority conferred by His Imperial Majesty; he is Baron of Gross, Farmer, and Locksley — and the rightful, lawful lord of the very ground you now stand upon. I have come here in his place. You, resident of Easthall, would do well to observe the courtesies that are your due."
I finished the long, elaborate introduction and glanced at her. From the moment my family name had left my mouth, the dismay on her face had been impossible to miss. The aura she had honed to a killing edge had vanished somewhere along the way.
Even for people hiding in a backwater like this, they would of course know who sat at the very top of the chain. The name Reed would not have been unfamiliar. That, I thought, was enough to seize the initiative.
I added one more line, and her expression grew more bewildered still.
"Now that we know who the other is, I was hoping we might speak a little more frankly."