Anxiety (3)
Father never scolded me for overstepping my authority. Well — he never scolded me, at least.
As village chief, he had raised the issue when speaking with the caravan overseer and Priest Daniel about the temple construction. He had pointed it out not to me, but to the two of them.
Hearing that left me momentarily flustered.
The whole matter had proceeded because I wanted it. The responsibility was mine — so having someone else take the reprimand for it hardly sat well. Still, thinking it through, there was nothing to be done. My adoptive father had no idea I was the Saintess of the Metis Church. From his perspective, the parties driving the project could only have been Priest Daniel and the merchant caravan.
When I heard about it from Priest Daniel, I felt truly sorry — but both of them insisted it was fine. Apparently Daniel had planned to raise the subject first himself, and simply hadn't expected me to relay the news so quickly.
"I'm sorry."
"Not at all. The chief didn't scold us too harshly, either."
Well — of course not. He could hardly afford to sour relations with a priest.
"It was my mistake."
Even when I called it my own fault, everyone just kept saying it was all right. Ugh. I'd have to apologize to Father again later.
The caravan people had been lent empty houses, but there still wasn't enough space, so some of them had to pitch tents on open ground.
The next day, they said they would survey the village outskirts to choose a site for the temple. Accompanying them that far would have been overstepping again, so I left the matter entirely to Father and Priest Daniel.
"So Julian is heading to the outpost, then?"
"Yes. I need to deliver these."
I gave the crates a light kick with my foot. Inside were the two swords the young master had ordered, along with the gauntlets. Left in their boxes, they took up a fair amount of space. And with a blade like this, it would be a real help to him — better to get them there quickly.
"I see."
The reply was so cold and curt, so unlike her usual manner, that I flinched.
"If you're busy, I can go alone."
I watched Sister Mary carefully, gauging her reaction. I'd only said it because going alone felt embarrassing — I hadn't expected her to give me nothing at all. Anxiety crept in, and before I knew it I was fidgeting, shifting my weight from foot to foot.
That finally drew a response. A gentle smile rose on her face, and she took my hand.
"Of course I'm coming with you."
Hearing that Sister Mary would come along was a genuine relief.
"Thank you."
"Assisting you is my role, after all."
Tch. If she was going to say that, she could have just said so right away instead of making me wait! But I kept that thought firmly to myself. Say something like that to the person offering to go with you, and she might just tell you to go alone!
"Ahem. Anyway — let's get ready."
We prepared to go out at once, and the moment we were ready, we set off.
I walked hard with three large crates strapped to an A-frame carrier on my back, and before long we arrived at the outpost.
"It really is close."
We hadn't gone far at all, and already we were at our destination.
"Isn't it?"
Still, I found myself briefly wondering how best to call for the young master. Last time, he had spotted us first and come out on his own…
"Aren't you tired? Why don't you set the crates down for a moment?"
Sister Mary fretted. She had offered at the start to split the load, but I had refused. Since I was using a carrier frame, it was easier to take everything in one go.
"Hmm…"
I peered around, but no one came out to meet us. Would I have to call for him myself after all?
I couldn't just walk into the base uninvited.
So I headed for the forge first.
"What is it?"
The blacksmith I knew well came out to greet us.
"Miss…"
He seemed to recognize me as well.
"It's been a while. What brings you here?"
"Um — could you call for Young Master Maximilian?"
"What?"
The name alone carried enough weight to produce that reaction.
"Could you call for Young Master Maximilian Meyer? Just tell him Julian is here."
"You want me to fetch him? Well, I'll be…"
The blacksmith looked doubtful, but seemed willing to oblige for now, and headed inside.
I stood in a corner of the sweltering forge, conjuring a cool breeze with magic while I waited.
Sister Mary kept quietly at my side. Whether from the heat or something else, she showed no inclination to step away from me.
"Hot, isn't it?"
"Yes. There's a reason everyone dresses so openly around here."
Openly — and yet not entirely. Those wearing protective gear against flying sparks were streaming with sweat.
"Heh. Magic is convenient, isn't it?"
Sister Mary only smiled.
I kept replenishing the cool air with magic as we waited for word.
Then a man came bursting into the forge in a great rush, so out of breath he was gasping.
"Is — hah — is it true that a — a young woman named Julian has — hah, hah — arrived?"
He looked thoroughly winded.
"Yes. Right here."
I raised a hand carefully in greeting, and the man's eyes went wide.
"I — I'll escort you at once!"
Under his guidance, we were led inside.
"Er — might I ask what those packages are?"
He inquired cautiously.
"Hmm. That might be difficult to say."
I didn't know who this man was, so caution seemed wise.
"Th-that's quite all right."
"For now — the things inside belong to Young Master Maximilian."
"I see. Understood."
Once we entered the reception room he showed us to, I shrugged off the carrier frame and set the crates on the table.
"Still, what could he be doing that he can't come right away?"
I grumbled, and Sister Mary smiled.
"He's probably busy."
Fair enough. They never knew when an attack might come.
After about half an hour of waiting, the young master flung the door open and rushed in, breathing hard.
"Wh-what brings you here?!"
"Catch your breath first."
"I'm sorry for the delay. I was out on patrol."
On patrol, was he…
"Why are you apologizing? You were doing your job."
He looked sheepish.
"Ahem! Anyway — I came because of the equipment."
I carefully lifted a crate lid, and a sword came into view.
"A sword…"
"Supplies arrived yesterday, didn't they? The equipment was delivered with that caravan."
That seemed to be enough for him to understand. He nodded.
"You came to deliver them?"
"Yes. I figured I should get them to you before a war breaks out."
"I could have come to collect them myself…"
"Come on — you're busy."
Besides, having the young master show up in the village in person would have made the villagers uneasy.
"Go on, take a look."
He reached carefully for the sword and examined it with care.
"Well? Does it look all right?"
To my eye, the blade looked fine. But his standards might be different.
"Not bad at all. Yes — this should serve well enough."
The way he extended the sword straight out and studied the edge with such focus made him look like a seasoned craftsman.
"That's a relief, then."
"The one at your hip — is that your own sword, Miss Julian?"
"Yes. A bit too ornate, isn't it?"
I carefully unfastened the blade from my waist and held it out.
"Honestly, I think there's too much decoration."
"Haha. It's practically a ceremonial sword."
Ceremonial?! Well — it did have that feel to it, didn't it?
"There's more underneath, if you look."
At my words, he sheathed the sword and fastened it at his hip. The brightness of his expression suggested the blade had pleased him considerably.
Another sword emerged from the crate below.
"Ah — Father's ended up here as well."
He took one look, closed the crate again, and carefully set it aside. From the last crate came the sword stopper — the gauntlet.
"Ohh…"
His reaction was good; he clearly liked it. He put it on at once. Fitted to his left hand, it looked remarkably fine. The sort of thing that stirred a man's heart, you might say.
The deep crimson color only made it more striking.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes. No discomfort at all — the craftsmen must have put real care into this."
He clenched and unclenched his fist, turning his arm this way and that to check for any awkwardness. Judging by his face, he was genuinely delighted — like a child who'd just been given a new toy.
I allowed myself a quiet moment to enjoy that pure, unguarded look of his.
"Thank you for bringing these."
"You'll need them if you're going to fight well, won't you?"
"Yes. They'll be a great help."
"Well — I've delivered everything, so I should be heading back."
Startled, he tried to stop us.
"Couldn't you stay a little longer? At least let me offer you some tea."
He was slightly flustered, slightly rambling. The gist of it was that we'd gone to the trouble of delivering everything, and he wanted a chance to show his hospitality.
"I have things to do back home as well."
At that, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.
"Of course. Forgive me for detaining you."
"It's all right, Young Master."
Before leaving, I stepped in front of him. I had something I needed to say. After a moment's hesitation, I steeled myself and caught hold of his hand.
"Don't push yourself too hard."
"Miss Julian…?"
"I mean — even if you fight, please take care of your life. And if you're hurt, come find me right away."
"You needn't worry."
He had always been strong. After taking the elixir, he was stronger still — perhaps there was nothing to worry about. Even so, unease churned restlessly in my chest.
"Yes, I know you're strong. But if you get hurt, come to me. I'll heal you."
Sudden embarrassment overtook me. I released his hand in a rush and turned away.
"Ahem! Understood? Don't get hurt — and if you do, you must come find me. All right?"
"Yes. I will."
From behind me, I thought I heard something like joy in his voice, and heat rose to my face.
Ugh. Why did I have to say something so embarrassing…?
Still — he was a comrade, and a close friend. I didn't want to see him hurt.
"Let's go."
I quickened my pace, eager to put the place behind me, and Sister Mary followed quietly in my wake.