Encampment
A week had already slipped past in the carriage.
Beyond the window, the highway streamed by. As if to announce that we had left Nordberg behind, what showed through the glass was no longer the snow-buried plain of the north, but living earth, with grass pushing up through it.
"…Slow."
The word escaped me before I could stop it, and broke the silence that had settled over the carriage.
"…Your Grace?"
I turned toward the voice. Adelheid, who had changed into lighter clothes once we left the north and had been reading, was already looking at me.
"You called?"
"Are you… very uncomfortable?"
Those red eyes waited for an answer. I spoke to her.
"Not particularly."
"Then why…?"
"It feels slow."
Alone, I could have made the journey from Nordberg to the Imperial Capital in three days. By carriage, we were a week into that same distance.
"…How much farther did they say it was?"
"About another month and a half…"
Mid-sentence her eyes wavered, and then her head dropped.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize Your Grace was uncomfortable…"
"If I were uncomfortable, I would have run."
I turned back to the window and watched the grass and trees flow past.
"It just struck me as unusually slow today. That's all."
The sky was staining itself the color of sunset, the sun caught on the horizon. Watching it, Adelheid's face darkened.
"You're right. If we were keeping to the schedule, the waystation ought to be in sight by now…"
In that moment the flowing scenery began to lose its speed, and then the carriage came to a complete stop. Adelheid snatched up her sword and rose in a hurry.
"Your Grace, I'll go out and see what—"
"Doesn't look like there's any need."
Hoofbeats.
A middle-aged knight on horseback was approaching from the head of the column. Adelheid watched him come.
"…He's the one in charge of this procession."
"So it seems."
The knight in the black uniform swung down from his horse and knocked.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Open it."
At my word the coachman opened the door, and the knight dropped to one knee.
"This seems a bit much."
"Your Grace, I beg your pardon."
"For what."
He answered my question.
"A wheel on the supply wagon has broken. We judge it will be difficult to reach the waystation planned for today."
"And?"
"Having reviewed the matter in my unworthy estimation…"
"Enough. Just the conclusion."
The knight drew a long breath.
"Your Grace… I propose we make camp tonight."
At his words, Adelheid's mana surged.
"…Camp?"
Her voice was low and cold.
"You're saying His Grace must camp? Is that what you mean?"
The knight flinched at that single line.
"I'll ask once more. Are you telling me that His Grace is to spend the night in camp over a single baggage wagon?"
She stepped down from the carriage and advanced on the kneeling man.
"The Grand Duke of Nordberg—one of the Five Pillars of the Empire—is to endure inconvenience because a baggage wagon broke down?"
"My apologies…"
"Do you actually believe that makes any sense?"
Adelheid tapped her sword and looked down at him.
Camping, was it.
"…Why not."
"…Your Grace?"
Her mana subsided, and those red eyes turned to me.
"What's the problem?"
"Considering Your Grace's authority…"
"We camp often enough on expeditions into the Permafrost."
"…The circumstances are different."
Her firm reply gave me a moment's pause.
"Is camping uncomfortable for you?"
"N-no. I'm of Nordberg too. Camping doesn't bother me. But—!"
"Then that's settled."
I rose and stepped down from the carriage.
"Your Grace?"
"I'll walk ahead to the campsite."
"…Pardon?"
I left Adelheid behind and followed the highway. The middle-aged knight, who had been prostrate on the ground, scrambled up and came running after me.
"Your Grace need not walk—!"
"Walking's faster."
At my answer he spoke in a rush.
"No! We'll go on ahead, finish preparing the camp, and then—!"
"Guide me. Quickly."
I had not followed him far before a wide clearing came into view. An advance party that had arrived first was already moving busily, raising the camp.
"Anything I can help with?"
"No, Your Grace! If you'll wait just a moment, we'll—!"
He gestured urgently, and at once a young knight brought me a chair.
"If you'll sit for a moment… we'll escort you the instant preparations are complete."
"…Fine."
I sat, and the middle-aged knight bellowed.
"You there! Get that pole straight! His Grace is watching! Move!"
From the chair I watched the knights bustling to raise the camp. The empty clearing quickly took on the shape of an encampment.
Before long, hoofbeats sounded beyond the highway, and a long line of carriages rolled into the clearing one after another.
"…Your Grace."
"You're here."
Adelheid stepped down from her carriage, came up beside me, looked at the chair I was sitting in, and frowned.
"…Rather shabby, for a chair His Grace ought to be sitting in."
"So long as I can sit, what does it matter."
Her gaze turned toward the camp.
"…Camping. Are you truly all right with this?"
"Is there a reason I wouldn't be?"
"We could leave only the minimum needed to repair the wagon and go on to the waystation first."
"Yes. That would work too."
"Then why on earth…"
Her eyes demanded an answer.
"Because the man in charge judged that we should camp."
"…A judgment that takes no account of Your Grace's authority."
"There must have been a reason he had to make it."
The middle-aged knight came running toward us.
"Your Grace! Your pavilion is ready. Allow me to escort you."
"Lead on."
I rose and followed him. Where he led, a large pavilion of black silk had been raised. I opened the entrance and looked inside. A wooden desk and a fine bed met my eye.
"Lavish."
The knight looked troubled, and Adelheid, who had followed in silence, answered with a twisted expression.
"…There was no camping on this itinerary, so this is the simplified version."
"Even this is excessive."
The knight let out a breath of relief, then turned to her.
"Lady Adelheid, this way, if you please."
"…Very well."
Adelheid bowed to me and followed him toward her own pavilion. I sat down at the desk inside mine.
Reports were stacked on the desk. I picked up the one on top.
Edward Ashford
Hero of the Western Front — the Dawn of the South
A familiar name.
Beneath it, the deeds he had accomplished this time and a proposal for his reward had been entered, though none of it was particularly remarkable. I turned through the several reports that followed. Other names and other proposals for reward continued on, but aside from Edward, who had appeared on the first page, there seemed to be no name I needed to remember.
When I set the reports down, deep dark had settled outside the pavilion.
I rose slowly and stepped out. The knights on watch saluted me. I looked up at the sky, where a half-moon hung, and listened to the sounds around me.
Insects crying,
the breath of wild beasts,
the knights' idle talk—
and woven through those sounds, a steady rhythm.
Whsssh—
The sound of a sword cutting the air, carried on the wind. I followed it. Past a familiar-faced maid who bowed to me, I climbed a hill.
There, a woman with her eyes closed was swinging a pure-white sword.
From above to below. From below to above. Left, and then right. Every motion flowed into the next as naturally as water. There was no wasted movement in any of it—a single upright sword that would not have been out of place if one called it the strongest.
She let out a long breath with a still face, then slowly opened her eyes.
"…Your Grace?"
"Adelheid."
Her eyes widened when she found me.
"Did I interrupt?"
"No. If you'd come, you should have said something. Then you wouldn't have had to wait."
She sheathed her sword and walked toward me.
"…Does my swordwork look any better, to Your Grace?"
"Yes. The transitions are more natural."
At that she answered with a faint smile.
"Thank you, Your Grace…"
"I don't think it's something to thank me for."
"…It was because of the escort."
"What was?"
Adelheid drew a deep breath and went on.
"The reason we had to camp. If we'd left the baggage wagon behind, the way the men would have had to be posted would have left a gap in Your Grace's escort. There was a risk…"
"I see."
"…I didn't know that. I let my feelings run ahead of me, and only caused Your Grace trouble."
The face that had been turned toward me stiffened, and her eyes wavered.
"Is that what you think?"
"Isn't it?"
Then she dropped her head.
"…I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"…If I hadn't asked to come along, Your Grace wouldn't have had to camp…"
I reached out and set a hand on her head, and those red eyes turned up to me.
"…Your Grace?"
"Apologizing for things you didn't do wrong. You haven't changed."
"What do you…"
"You're fretting over something that doesn't matter. If I'd really been uncomfortable, I would have run long ago."
I took my hand from her head, leaned my back against a tree, and looked up at the sky. Seeing that, Adelheid spoke in a sunken voice.
"…Your Grace shouldn't sit in a place like this."
"Is that so."
She offered an awkward smile, then sat down beside me and murmured.
"…Just for today…"
Leaning against the tree, she looked up at the sky as I had, and asked.
"…Your Grace. How long will you stay here?"
"I don't know."
"Then just for a moment. Only a moment. Please stay like this…"
"All right."
Looking up at the moon and the drifting clouds lasted only a little while.
Thump.
Adelheid's head bumped my shoulder. At the impact she flinched, and then, with her head still resting there, her breathing fell into a steady rhythm.
I was looking at her sleeping face when I realized her personal maid, who had been waiting at the foot of the hill, was standing there watching us. The maid laid a blanket she had brought from somewhere over the sleeping Adelheid. Then, with a warm smile, she spoke softly, almost a whisper.
"If you need anything, please call freely, Your Grace."
She bowed and went back down the hill. I watched her receding back and listened to the sounds around me.
Insects crying,
the breath of wild beasts,
the knights' idle talk—
and through them, the soft sound of Adelheid's sleeping breath.
Her small murmur reached me.
"…Bro…ther…"
I turned to look at her face. A single tear, gathered at the corner of her eye, was sliding down her cheek.