The Friendly Exchange Begins
Laura, who had only just recovered from her bout of illness after four long days, rose from her blankets with a satisfying stretch.
"Really... you should never get sick."
It was a lesson she'd learned during the plague, and here it was again, confirmed a second time. She touched her forehead, confirmed the fever was gone, and hurried to get dressed.
It had been a bad enough illness that it should have laid her up for a week to ten days, but thanks to Reus's magic she'd recovered far faster — though she had no idea whatsoever.
I wonder if our stubborn lord managed to handle things properly while I was out.
Still, he had come to visit her when she was sick, and he seemed to be working hard lately, so perhaps she'd go easy on him. Softening just a little, she made her way to the office —
"My lord, it's been a while, so I wanted to pay my respects...?"
The empty office and the documents piled high on the desk mercilessly betrayed her expectations. The door to her heart, which had cracked open just slightly, shut at once.
"Where is the lord?"
"At the training ground, my lady."
When the sentry told her where Reus was, Laura pressed a hand to her forehead. Why on earth was the man himself over there?
Had he suddenly decided to take up physical fitness? But as his aide she couldn't very well not go see for herself, so she set off with distinctly reluctant steps.
"Oof... my arms ache."
"Shall I loosen the draw weight a little for you, my lord?"
"It's fine. Pulling something with this much tension is how you... get better!"
Watching from a distance as Reus trained at archery under the soldiers' instruction, Laura let out a loooong, heavy sigh.
He was working hard at drawing the bow, even loosing arrowless shafts, but for every ten shots, eight went wide of the target. What on earth was he trying to do?
"Good! That's enough with the bow! You've got the rough idea of drawing and loosing now."
"Shall we move straight on to swordsmanship, then?"
"Mm, I'll leave it to you."
After an hour or so of archery, Reus strapped on protective gear, took up a wooden training sword, and squared off against another soldier.
"Hans, I'm counting on you again today."
"Yes, my lord! Prepare yoursel— no, please prepare yourself!"
Reus getting knocked about all over the place while sparring with a seasoned veteran was almost pitiful to watch.
At this point, wasn't it basically conditioning for taking hits? He wasn't a complete lost cause — he did land a few strikes — but he lost in the end all the same.
"Ow, ouch..."
"I-I'm so sorry! I hit you far too hard!"
"Don't apologize, I told you. You need to go through this for it to sink in. Anyway, this just confirms it — that 'method' really is the most practical option for me, right?"
"Yes, my lord. If you swing a sword half-heartedly, you'll end up stabbing yourself more often than not."
"Grip it reversed and swing... hm."
Their training wound down amid a conversation that only the two of them could follow. It was around then that Reus spotted Laura watching from a distance.
"Oh, Laura! How are you feeling?"
"My body's fine, but my heart is breaking. If I'd known this was waiting for me, I'd have rather stayed sick."
"Ha! Sharp as ever — you must be all better! Sorry, I'll be right there."
Sensing the prickly menace radiating off her, Reus hurriedly changed his clothes and rushed back to the office.
Laura watched him pore over the documents with diligent focus, then cleared her throat pointedly.
"That Friendly Exchange we spoke of before — are you truly going through with it?"
"It's already decided, I told you. While you were resting, I gathered the villagers and briefed them too."
"That man may well have laid a trap for you."
"Then let him dig all he wants. I'll simply sidestep it."
He spoke as if he knew full well what kind of trap might be waiting, and his tone brimmed with confidence.
When he seems to be doing well, he does something foolish, and when he's doing something well, he fumbles it... and yet through it all, he stays this confident.
Laura prided herself on having a decent eye for people, but even now she couldn't figure out just what kind of man the lord she served truly was.
The remaining time slipped away in a blink.
On the day of the Friendly Exchange, I woke earlier than usual.
I took the finest clothes hanging in my wardrobe, gathered my people from first light, and set out from the manor.
Keeping more than half the soldiers behind in case of the unexpected, I departed with only a minimal escort, joined by the farmers who wished to attend the festival.
"Have you eaten breakfast, milord?"
"Hm? No — I hear you're preparing lunch over there, so I decided to skip it."
"Ayyy, you've got to eat breakfast to keep your strength up, milord. Here, have some of this."
"Thank you for thinking of me."
One of the elderly farmers held out some finely shredded dried meat to me. Touched by the gesture, I popped it straight into my mouth... salty. Oh, so salty. You've salted it beautifully, my good elder.
The island set in the middle of the Welek River — our appointed meeting place — could be reached on foot. As noon drew near and we arrived, our eyes fell on the Baron's people, already there ahead of us.
Beside a small portable fire pit, a baker was baking bread on the spot. A little farther off, several armored knights were scouting the surroundings.
Chairs and tents had all been erected, and wagons piled high with every manner of supply were displayed as if on parade.
Seeing preparations made so lavishly... there was no mistaking it. He meant to flaunt his wealth and crush our spirits in advance.
"Wow... look at all that."
"Land sakes, what's all that supposed to be?"
If even I felt a little overwhelmed, you can imagine how the farmers felt. They could only gape and let out exclamations, unable to manage a word.
"Welcome, welcome!!"
The moment we crossed the bridge onto the island, Karaton bellowed heartily and came toward us. I'd seen him once before, uninvited, so I felt none of the excitement he clearly wanted.
"An honor to meet you, Baron Karaton."
"Yes, yes. Good of you to come. Isn't this how neighbors ought to be — deepening our ties, fostering friendship, growing together?"
Karaton clapped my shoulder with a friendly smile... but I know. I know his eyes are fixed on Laura, standing behind me.
Go on then... stare all you like. You won't get many more chances after today.
Behind my outward smile, as I honed my blade in my mind, the plan I'd drafted ten days ago unrolled before my eyes, line by line.
Only one thing remained undecided. This bastard was certain to demand Laura from me... but what should I demand to really stick it to him?
Before the festival began in earnest, I made a round of the grounds, searching in case there was something useful — an object, or perhaps a person of talent.
"Huh?"
That was when my eyes caught on one of the knights under Karaton's command. A young knight whose most striking feature was his missing left ear, cut clean away.
That man...!!
Most characters in LTM were generated at random, but every once in a great while, a Named Character with a distinctive appearance would appear. Call it a little gift the developers had hidden away.
That one-eared knight was one of them. His name was, without a doubt... Ludlow? That was it. A late bloomer of the long-haul type who'd remain a devoted retainer if raised well — so why was someone that useful standing around over there?
"Hey, Ludlow! Stop slacking and get over there — take a watch shift!"
"Yeth, yeth."
"It's not 'yeth,' it's YES! And I told you once is enough!"
"Yeeesss."
"You little runt, you really wanna die—!"
Another knight slapped the back of Ludlow's head with a resounding crack. Seeing him treated like that in front of everyone told me all too plainly what his standing must be.
Ludlow only sighed and offered no resistance, so this was clearly no new thing. Karaton, who kept only sycophants like Mulat at his side, was naturally blind to potential.
Thanks to that scene, one more vivid stroke was added to my blueprint. The talent I'd take when Karaton made his offer — decided.
"People of Crow's Head Valley and Wood Pigeon's Perch!! Enjoy yourselves freely! Every last expense shall be borne by me, Baron Karaton!!"
Yes—! With the Baron's proclamation, cheers rose from the crowd, and I relayed to my own party to relax and enjoy themselves.
The Friendly Exchange festival between the two manors had begun.
"Now, we'll sit over there, apart from the rest!"
Once the festival had warmed up a bit, Karaton led Laura and me to a tent he'd prepared. Mulat, who had come as messenger before, was waiting inside.
"Welcome, Reus!"
"Thank you for your generous hospitality, Baron."
"No need to be so stiff. Make yourself comfortable, do."
He and I exchanged small talk with all the soul of wet paper. God help me if I actually got comfortable — who knew what he'd find fault with then.
"Now then. We did agree to hold contests a little later, didn't we?"
"Yes, we did."
Here it came — the main event. I already knew exactly what he was after, but I played ignorant and let the conversation flow.
"Not that any place couldn't use more hands, but manors above all are starved for talent. Which is why capable people are always in such desperate demand. You'd agree?"
"Wholeheartedly. With so few hands around, it's killing me."
"That's exactly what I mean! So, here's my thought..."
Ahem. With a throat-clearing cough, Karaton readied himself to bring up the real business. Hurry up and say it, man. I already know it all.
"How about this — the loser of the contest hands over one talented person to the winner? It would give the whole affair a bit more weight, wouldn't you say?"
"That's... actually not a bad idea. And staking something on the outcome would certainly raise the stakes."
"Fellow lords indeed — we speak the same language."
Wahaha! Karaton clapped my shoulder and laughed heartily. Good. So far, everything was going exactly as I'd planned.
"Though might I ask, Baron — who were you hoping to take from my domain? As you know, Crow's Head Valley isn't exactly flush with people to spare."
"My aide here, Mulat, can barely sleep for the mountain of work that comes flooding in. So I've always thought — oh, how I'd love to have one more capable aide like him..."
He let his words trail off, and looked at Laura. I could feel her expression stiffen slightly, though she gave no outward sign of displeasure.
"I hear your aide has exceptional administrative talents, you see."
"So... you mean to take Laura if you win the contest?"
"Precisely. Someone as capable as her would thrive anywhere."
"That's a problem. Without Laura, our domain would be ruined within the day."
"Ha, what a joker you are. Well, if you've had your eye on anyone, or desire something else entirely, speak up freely."
It's not a joke, you fool. I'm dead serious.
More to the point, he'd made the exact proposal I'd expected. Originally I'd planned to demand material compensation, but after seeing Ludlow earlier, I'd settled on a different course.
"If it isn't too much of an imposition... might I request a knight instead? We're in a difficult spot — no one to command our soldiers or drill their formations."
"A knight?"
At my request for a knight, Karaton's expression stiffened slightly. Knights were elite troops indeed — hardly something he'd hand over lightly.
"Was there anyone who caught your eye?"
"I saw a knight called Ludlow. He seemed skilled, and of decent character as well."
"Ah, you mean that worthl— that capable fellow? Ludlow, hm... Yes, perfect. Mm, he's a bit of a trial, but I can spare him."
The moment I spoke Ludlow's name, Karaton's frozen face smoothed right over.
He'd bitten back the word useless mid-sentence — clearly the man had never recognized the knight's true worth.
"Then it's settled! If I win, I take Miss Laura; if you win, you take Ludlow! Do we agree?"
"Yes, let's do exactly that."
Karaton agreed on the spot without giving me a second to haggle, and smiled even more revoltingly than before. That smile carried a message all its own:
What an idiot. Given a chance to negotiate, and he asks for that piece of trash.
I was smiling too — but mine meant something entirely different. Just who the real fool was, he'd find out soon enough.
"My lord, might I have a word..."
The moment my conversation with Karaton ended, Laura nudged my back and spoke up. Knowing full well what she wanted to say, I followed her out at once.
"You have nothing to say for yourself?"
"I'm sorry."
"How nice that you at least know. What was that, exactly? You wagered me off without so much as asking the person concerned? Did I look like something you were free to gamble just because I help you run this domain?"
"Th-that's not what I meant! Really!"
Apparently the absurdity of her situation — becoming wholesale merchandise in an instant — was too much, because Laura spat out genuinely thorned words. All I could offer in return was an apology.
"You could have at least said you'd 'consult me first' and bought time, but no — you just went right ahead...!"
"Laura, if I win, there's no problem at all. Right?"
"Ah, yes. Of course. That's how everything works, isn't it! Oh! If winning solves everything, how about you go to the capital and wager the throne against His Imperial Majesty? That works too, doesn't it?! Go on, bet your whole life away!"
"I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry, Laura. Truly."
I couldn't tell her the details of the plan, and I knew perfectly well I'd done her a grave wrong. In penance, I took her hands in mine and looked her dead in the eyes.
"So let me make this absolutely clear, right here. I won't lose. I will never lose."
"Ah— no, I... um..."
Her eyes wavered and she turned to look away, but I followed her face all the way, stopping just inches from it.
"You are my precious aide, Laura. Do you really think I'd stake someone like you on a wager made lightly?"
"O-oh... I understand..."
"Trust me. No matter what happens, I'll win. There is no world in which I hand you over to that man, never—"
"I said I get it, so BACK OFF!"
CRACK!
Laura slammed her forehead into mine with all her might. Ow, ow ow. As we both rubbed the spot where our heads had collided, Mulat came looking for us.
"The contests are about to begin. Please make your way over."
"Right. Lead on."
All right. Let's go. Time to begin Operation: Make Karaton Eat Dirt.