A Merry Man and the Cat's Eye (3)
The man went on with a hearty laugh.
"If he'd laid a hand on my own wife, I'd have broken his jaw on the spot. But the thought that we both got to sample the wicked witch who was about to sell us off to a slaver — well, strange as it sounds, I find myself rather fond of you. We only met today, and yet here we are, bonded for life!"
Cloud frowned.
"Fond of what? I'd sooner die than be 'hole brothers' over some filthy piece of trash. There's no such thing as a brotherhood that disgusting. Anywhere."
"Well, here it is!"
The man rolled his bound body with surprising force, tumbling head over heels toward the light.
Cloud flinched at the sight of him.
He'd thought it was a tiger.
Short brown hair, a thick unruly beard, a frame the size of a mountain — the muscles on his arms were as big as Cloud's own face. And those eyes burned so fiercely that looking into them felt like staring down a wild beast. In fact, Cloud caught himself thinking that if the man were hungry, he might well end up as dinner. Fortunately, he didn't seem to have been captive for long; his face was flush with vigor.
"No need to be so embarrassed, my friend. We both had the prettiest of the three, didn't we? Think about it! If we'd been stuck with some fat, ugly sow, that'd be a story you could never brag about anywhere — but a pretty one with a body like that? Go on and tell the whole world, I say!"
"That's nothing to brag about, you idiot."
When Cloud dismissed it as utter nonsense, the man burst into booming laughter all over again.
"What's your name, anyway? I'm Thor. Thor Joffrey."
"Cloud. Cloud New Kuu Sara von Asran."
Thor's lively, piercing eyes went wide.
"That's a long name — fit for a noble. Say, you wouldn't happen to be a noble from the western provinces?"
"No."
"Nobles from that region tend to have 'von' in the middle of their names. You're certain?"
"I've got nothing to do with nobles. Just a commoner from a dirt-poor village."
"A commoner? Then why the mouthful of a name? You planning on getting yourself beheaded the day some real noble catches you at it?"
Thor's face lit up with astonishment.
"You've got some gall, I'll give you that. 'Everyone in the world will marvel at me, and everyone will die of envy when they see me' — that's what you're after, isn't it? Well then. Thor, was it? Have you ever read Hellicomeus's novel, The Illusionist?"
"Books and I keep a respectful distance."
Cloud smirked.
"Then I'll sum it up. My favorite scene in The Illusionist is the one where the commoner hero falls in love with a noblewoman and agonizes over whether to risk his life for that love."
"What does that have to do with a long name?"
"Well, the noblewoman tells him — to hell with the standards the world has set, just take me in your arms. So what do you think the hero did?"
"A noblewoman, you say? Pale skin, sweet perfume? If it were me, I'd have swept her up without a second thought."
"And that's exactly why lasting love would be beyond you. You'd have given in to impulse, and that'd be the end of it — a flash in the pan."
"Then what did the hero do?"
"He didn't rush. To have her forever, he made himself a noble."
"What? How does a commoner become a noble? That hardly seems possible, does it?"
"That's why it's a novel. And the very first thing he did was change his name. Then he deceived everyone into believing he was a noble of illustrious blood."
Thor stared blankly for a while.
"That's it? That's the reason for your long name?"
"I want to be like him — that silver-tongued hero with all his tricks and talents."
"D-don't tell me you mean to pass yourself off as a fake noble?"
"Who knows?"
Cloud grinned slyly.
"WAHAHAHA!"
Thor suddenly threw his head back and roared with laughter.
"I like it! I never could hate a man with nerve! You're my little brother, all right! Go on and become a real noble someday!"
"Who're you calling little brother? If you want to play big-brother-little-brother games built on something so sordid, play them by yourself."
"Don't be such a shy thing about it! WAHAHAHA!"
While the two men's conversation was hitting its stride, the three women outside — who had been tending to their tools — found themselves face to face with an unexpected visitor.
"Have any of you seen a man traveling alone through these parts? Blond, wiry fellow. Handsome enough — and with the look of a practiced liar about him."
The three women stiffened at the sight of the intruder. It was a knight in gleaming white armor, mounted on a pure white horse. The mere fact that a noble was poking around out here was aggravating enough, and it set every nerve in their bodies on edge.
"Big sis, what do we do? Wouldn't it be better to strike first, while she's off her guard?"
"If we let her ride away peaceably, she might lead the lord's soldiers straight to our hideout."
"Wait."
The three whispered among themselves, and soon the fat one of the trio stepped forward. She fixed the mounted knight with a respectful smile.
"You're looking for a blond man with a handsome face, I take it?"
"That's right. Seen him?"
"These parts see so little traffic that I haven't crossed paths with a soul lately. He most likely took a different road than this one."
"So you didn't see him?"
"No, milady. I haven't laid eyes on another person in days."
"Hm. Is that so."
The knight's face fell with disappointment, but she didn't make to leave. Instead, she swept her gaze over the surroundings from horseback. The dark cave atop the hill, the shanty built beneath it. A single shed with its doors standing open. And in what appeared to be a workshop, a full array of implements for slaughter, the worktable beneath them stained all over with what looked like blood.
"What is this place?"
The knight asked, sensing the strange air about the place.
At that instant, the pretty one and the plain one, standing behind their fat sister, quietly wrapped their hands around the machete hilts at the smalls of their backs.
But the eldest — the fat one — secretly signaled them to hold steady. Their opponent was a knight of considerable martial skill, and she meant to approach this with care.
"This is a slaughterhouse. We hunt beasts and strip their hides. The three of us are sisters, and we sell the skins at market to make our living."
"Hm."
The knight gave a light nod, then pressed on.
"What's inside that cave?"
She pointed at the cave on the hilltop.
"The cave? Th-that cave is…"
As the fat woman stammered and hesitated over her answer, the pretty one behind her stepped in smoothly.
"It stays cool as deep winter inside, so we use it as a cold cellar to store food that would spoil easily."
"A cold cellar…"
The knight studied the cave entrance on the hill with narrowed eyes.
Then, all at once, her gaze snagged on a bag lying carelessly discarded on the ground to the left of the entrance — and her eyes flashed.
That's it!
It was an object she knew well. The very bag Cloud carried everywhere on his back.
"I must inspect that cave at once!"
"Pardon? The cave?"
"Did you say the cave, milady?"
The knight yanked her reins without another word and urged her horse toward the cave entrance. The three women panicked outright — and in that instant of chaos, the fat one flung herself forward to bar the horse's path.
"There's nothing in the cave!"
"Whether there is or isn't, I'll see it with these two eyes."
At those hard, unbending words, the three women exchanged glances — and began letting the killing intent they'd kept hidden bleed through toward the knight.
Let her through for now! Walk her right up to the cave mouth, and when she dismounts, all three of us take her from behind!
"So, Thor — where are you from?"
Cloud shifted his shoulders, numb from being pressed against the ground, as he asked.
"Not from this region, I'll say that much. Ever heard of a place called Gren?"
"Nope."
"It's a village about three months' walk east of the city of Valois. I was born there — in Gren, first of two children, me and a younger sister."
"Does your sister look like you too?"
"Well… a little?"
"That's tragic."
"WAHAHAHA! You're funny — though somehow that one stings!"
"So how does a man from that far out end up all the way here?"
"Hmm."
Thor mulled it over briefly before speaking.
"My father was a retired swordsman who taught fencing to the sons of nobles. I learned the blade from him starting when I was a boy. And the year I came of age, I left home and made my living as a mercenary, moving from city to city. I wanted to be like my father — a man who earned the respect of nobles without being one."
"Couldn't you have just stayed with him?"
"That's the thing. Stay under my father's roof forever, and I'd only ever be known as 'Joffrey's boy' — never as Thor. I had this itch to get out from under his shadow."
"I can understand that."
Cloud nodded slowly.
"So how long ago did you leave home? Judging by the look of you, I'd guess mid-to-late thirties?"
"Hey, I'm quite young for my looks, I'll have you know!"
"Must be all the hair."
"Twenty-eight. Let's see… it's been since I left home… one, two, three… ten. Hm. Ten years already, would you believe it."
"Ten years as a mercenary? You must be decent by now. And ten years in the trade — most men your level would have a few underlings trailing after them. How'd you end up like this?"
Thor laughed.
"That's what I'd like to know! I take mercenary work in one city, and when the job's done, off I go to the next. Start a new life there, and when that ends, I'm on the road again looking for somewhere new… Started this at nineteen, and here I am, ten years on, still flying solo. Time does fly, doesn't it? I can still hear my father's voice clear as day when he taught me the sword, and the boy next door from back home — in my head, he's still eighteen."
"If you'd settled in one city, you might've made captain by now — fifty men under your command, serving a lord."
"That would've been fine by me! But unlike my father, I seem to have a wandering streak, and it just wouldn't sit still. The city's fine liquor, the thrilling festivals, and the beautiful women of the city — they'd never let me stay in one place."
"That's it? That's your reason?"
"HAHAHA! And all that takes money, friend! Run out of coin, take up the mercenary trade again! Then the city's grand festivals and one sweet night with its lovely women! KAHH~! I've got not a coin saved to my name, but I regret nothing!"
Cloud nodded along, a man in full agreement.
Then he said:
"Hey, Thor."
"Yeah?"
"Starting today, you… you're going to be my role model in life."
"Right you are! Even a brother can see you've lived a magnificent, romantic life, eh?"
"No. Live like that, and your life is well and truly fucked."