Is the Journey with a Companion a Smooth One? (2)
Luirin wasn't deficient in character or temperament — she simply lacked social graces.
Well, no. To anyone who prized sociability, that probably counted as a defect in itself.
Just before boarding the ship, when someone picked a fight with her, she hadn't shrunk back an inch despite facing a man twice her size — she'd simply kicked him square in the crotch.
"Oooh!"
Every man who'd witnessed it flinched and instinctively cupped their own groins, or so the story went.
The ship was a bit large for just six passengers, or so Cariel had thought — until he saw how much cargo it was packed with.
They'd been assigned a cramped corner as their "seats," and sitting still was enough to make him fidget.
"The instruments I can understand, but what's with that sword? Does it even fit in its sheath properly?"
"This? I figured I'd get it fixed somewhere down the line."
Elhermina's sword was fine as blades went — it was her that warped it, bent as if crushed — and all Cariel did was shove it into the sheath as-is.
But with the crooked hilt on full display, it was only natural that suspicions would boil over.
He'd meant to repair it in Cariela when he found the time, but somehow the opportunity had slipped past him. Wandering the local smithies in search of one and stumbling into that little workshop had, come to think of it, been for that very purpose — only to be told they didn't handle weapons, and he'd given up in the end.
"You look perfectly respectable and everything you carry looks valuable, so what sudden whim possessed you to sneak into someone else's country?"
"Is that information you need for your job?"
"Judge for yourself and tell me. Whether it's a simple trip or a flight from the law changes how I handle things."
Cariel considered for a moment.
"It's a journey, but not an escape. Someone will be chasing me, but… chances are they won't try to drag me back. Probably."
"I hate vague answers like that the most."
Life was uncertain in every possible way already — how was anyone supposed to breathe if even that came with a question mark attached?
She grumbled in dissatisfaction, but seemed to sort through her thoughts quickly enough, and lightly rattled off a list of cautions.
"Then it's not your pursuers we need to worry about so much as the people we tangle with along the way. And getting swept up in pointless incidents on top of that. Crossed sword belt at the Empire, so — knight? Or an aspiring one? A candidate?"
"…Think whatever you like."
"How reassuring."
An unexpected remark.
"In what way?"
"Because a hidebound knight would never let a phrase like 'probably' leave his mouth. Just don't go meddling somewhere and stirring up a huge mess. As long as you avoid that, our journey should be smooth sailing — unless fire starts raining from the sky. Ah, but they do say speaking of the devil brings him running, so if a pillar of flame actually comes pouring down after this…."
For all her cool-toned speech and demeanor, the moment she opened her mouth, words came pouring out like the relentless volley of elven archers.
"Traveling by horse will be faster than walking, but you'll have to endure a stretch of tedium either way. Do you get seasick? It's a river, not the open sea, so you should be fine — but if you're not used to boats, mind how you lie down. The cabin's arranged like this, so if you want to recline…."
===
By the time they disembarked, Cariel genuinely couldn't tell whether he was standing on land or still on the deck.
The ground swayed gently beneath him even though he hadn't moved a muscle.
…And this was after only a few days aboard. He could hardly imagine how people who spent months or more on the open sea ever managed to readjust.
Luirin, for her part, was utterly unbothered.
"So this is…."
A territory that boasted a fortress, no less.
There was a village outside the fortress walls and a dock that could berth a handful of ships, but the scale of it all was nothing impressive.
All sorts of people came and went, but a distinct abundance of auburn hair caught the eye — noticeably unlike the Empire, which meant….
"Unfortunately, this is still inside the Dabas Kingdom. Apparently some circumstance came up, and they can't take us any further up the river."
"…What reason?"
"None of our business. It happens all the time. No one stakes their life on a needless adventure. But don't worry — there's always a way forward. First, let's fill our stomachs. Miss this chance and who knows when the next meal comes. We should stock up on whatever we'll need for the road ahead, too. Unless we're traveling by horse, we'll be walking, which makes the journey even longer… ah, you said you handle mountain trails well, right? Then let's plan our route through there…."
"I get it. Let's just go for now."
Short on sociability, perhaps — but she never ran out of words.
His first impression of her had been something like blunt. Or feral. If you let her indifferent, cold-seeming manner fool you, you'd never glimpse this side of her.
As long as her wariness toward someone didn't ease, she invariably shut conversations down with clipped replies.
If that failed to produce understanding, her words multiplied a little — and if the other person still didn't respond the way she wanted?
Her hand came out swinging.
Just like now.
"Ugh, aaagh!"
"You want your hand snapped off at the wrist, or are you handing over what you've got? Who told you to covet someone else's purse?"
The man caught in Luirin's grip was shaken down for everything he carried, then hurled away clutching his bent wrist.
Luirin gave his meager coin pouch a cursory inspection.
Then, eyes still locked on the pouch, she asked:
"Do you fight well, by any chance?"
"Why?"
"It means there's money in it. And we need to eat, you know… you can't just run away because you're scared of flies swarming you, right?"
"……."
"In places like this, guys like that always have an organization behind them. Nobody tolerates freelancers muddying the waters. These days even beggars have to get permits and carve special marks into their skin — imagine how much stricter it is for the rest. Did you know that begging itself is illegal without a permit? So the conclusion is that all of them are connected front to back. They even pay taxes, you know? A pickpocket ring paying the local lord hush money under the pretense of taxation — are you aware of that?"
"……."
That was a new one.
Was it because this wasn't the Empire? Or was it a taxation system unique to the Dabas Kingdom?
…Or perhaps the Empire did the same, and he simply didn't know?
Following Luirin into a tavern, they settled in and filled their stomachs to a reasonable degree.
"Which heartless bastard touched our kid?!"
Just as Luirin had predicted, several hulking men came looking for them.
"There they are."
With a grin, Luirin rose straight from her chair.
"It's me, you pigs!"
And then she threw her dagger.
THUNK!
"You crazy little brat?!"
Perhaps it was the dagger embedded squarely beside the man's own shoe — the instant every gaze snapped toward it, she was already sprinting, launching his body off its feet.
And then drove her knee straight into the face of the man who'd called them pigs.
Slamming it down.
"?!"
That wasn't the end of it.
Still tangled with him, she seized his face in one hand and crushed it tight.
Raised her right arm high.
Aimed at his eye socket.
And brought her elbow crashing down with everything she had.
CRACK!
"Huh?!"
While the men standing nearby stood frozen solid —
Barely past landing, Luirin threw herself sliding to the right.
At some point she'd hooked her foot around the ankle of another man standing beside her; he suddenly found his legs yanked out from under him and his face driven into the wooden floor while still upright.
WHAM!
"B-Big brother?!"
Even that reaction was too slow.
Luirin immediately hacked her heel down into the ankle of yet another man beside him.
Like a fine steed delivering a kick.
CRACK!
"AAAAARGH—!"
Her boot heels were made of iron, so getting hit by one had to hurt beyond reason.
"Hand over everything you've got! Otherwise I'll carve your wrists and ankles into little chunks, understand?!"
A blade she'd drawn from who knows when.
Its tip curved inward at a sharp right angle, evoking the image of a herb-chopper's blade.
What was that thing? Some kind of machete for clearing undergrowth in the jungle?
He'd seen one a few times before, but watching it swung with such vicious skill made the whole scene all the more grisly.
Sure enough, a man took a stroke from it — several fingers went spinning through the air, iron rings still clinging to them.
A hideous scream tore loose.
"KYAAAAH! My hand! My hand!"
"Those are fingers, you moron! Did I cut off your whole hand?! Huh?! Cut it off?! Fine, I'll cut it off! Come here! Not coming?! Come now! Come this instant! Here!"
She went completely berserk.
…Honestly, there was no need to hire a butcher.
"That's enough."
"What the—?!"
Cariel barreled into Luirin, who was raging indiscriminately regardless of friend or foe, and knocked her flat.
"Huh? Wha?! Huh!"
Perplexed as to why she was suddenly on the ground, Luirin sat there half-reclined in an oddly graceful posture.
Her silver eyes had gone so wide they seemed ready to pop, and even Cariel could clearly feel her straining to process the situation.
"But wait, why did…."
More to the point —
"My blade! When did you take that off me?"
"This?"
Cariel twirled the knife Luirin had been holding, performing a small flourish as he rolled it over his fingers and wrist several times before answering.
"Just now."
"Then why did you interrupt my work?"
"Work?"
Cariel glanced around.
Not even a few minutes had passed — the men had only been stunned senseless for a moment — and yet.
"Wouldn't you say this is pretty much finished?"
"I haven't even taken a single finger off anyone, let alone a head?"
Apparently, Cariel's standards and hers were very different indeed.
Uuueeeegh!
S-Spare me—!
Urrrgh—ghk!
Blood ran everywhere.
Shreds of flesh were scattered about here and there, no less.
And those men weren't dead — merely not yet. Left lying as they were, they might actually die.
"……."
"……."
Figures.
A truly dangerous one.
===
As it turned out, she'd quietly taken on a commission to clean up at least part of that riffraff — that had been her scheme all along.
In exchange, she'd planned not only to see them safely out of the territory, but to pocket a bit of information and the commission fee as a bonus, or so she claimed.
"So if you didn't take it yourself, jobs and commissions go through some kind of broker, and they funnel this and that your way at oddly convenient moments — something like that?"
"Sharp as ever, aren't you?"
"It's the only thing that makes sense."
He hadn't been surveilling her, exactly — but in all the time he'd watched her, he'd never once seen her receive a commission, so he'd simply put the pieces together.
As for how the jobs reached her, there was surely some covert channel ordinary people never knew about.
"A body's got to work to eat. You know how much I eat as it is."
"……."
That much was true.
He'd half-feared that if things went wrong, his purse would be the next one emptied — and apparently she'd already been compensated for those expenses too.
If she'd played innocent and demanded, "Pay for my food, cover it for me," straight to Cariel's face…
…He might well have agonized over it for quite a while, honestly.
"Normally that's how it works, but this time the client specifically asked me not to pull anything unnecessary."
"And showing off like that was part of the request, wasn't it?"
"Quick on the uptake. That's how much sincerity they showed you. You're being treated with respect, you know?"
Between that and the little performance she'd put on to leave a good impression on her employer…
Could it be that, contrary to her appearance, she was actually quite old?
By human standards she was certainly a child — but what if she wasn't human at all?
"I am human. Ah, but not pureblooded. A half."
"Half of what?"
"You'd despise me if you knew."
"Do I look like a species bigot to you?"
"What if it's a bloodline that turns even people who aren't into ones who are?"
"…I think I get what you mean."
"How could you possibly 'get' it? I never even said it."
"……."
Probably that, then.
Demon blood.
Not that he thought so just because she'd become his guide through connections on the Edenlevan Coalition's side.
"Doesn't matter to me either way."
"…What a strange customer you are."
Stranger than you, maybe.
Shouldering his now considerably heavier pack, Cariel set out from the village at the territory's front gate.
Near the entrance there was a cargo wagon bound for the neighboring village, and he intended to hitch a ride on it.
"Forests and mountains turn cold once night falls. You'll be fine dressed like that?"
"As long as it's not winter."
"This is why magic artifacts are just plain cheating."
Cariel said it while stroking the small tuft of fur attached to his hood.
"True enough."
He agreed with unusual enthusiasm.
Still, though.
That display of skill just now had almost certainly been meant, in large part, to advertise her own usefulness to him.
Whether it was her own intent, or the intent of the organization standing behind her, he couldn't say.
But he could feel it plainly: their system was substantial.
…Thoroughness like that was worth knowing about. It couldn't hurt.
No boast intended — had Cariel been as perceptive and quick-thinking as he prided himself on being, this whole affair would naturally have led him to grasp that Luirin and her backers were anything but ordinary. And even if he'd been entirely incapable of drawing such inferences…
The display of skill she'd put on would have been more than enough to establish trust on its own.
Depending on the target, it could even function as a veiled threat — an implicit promise to enforce compliance with her instructions by force.
Words the Demon King had once spoken to him drifted back to mind.
That the world was full of situations where you lost simply because you didn't know.
…Yeah. That sounded about right.