If I Could Leave (4)
"Is there anything that troubles you? Anything at all?"
Deathbringer felt the weight of it—the attendant who trailed him at every step, fussing over him without pause. That the man happened to be the high priest's personal aide only made the burden heavier.
Worse, he alone was receiving this lavish treatment. Berserk had marched off after leaving behind some absurd line about how "a warrior speaks with her body," and the dense one was busy meditating in the building assigned to him.
He had only stepped out for a walk, a bit of sightseeing, maybe to scrounge some rare poisons—anything to avoid being stuck alone in a room with a soft temple type. Had he known it would turn out like this, he would have stayed put.
The careful attentiveness was appreciated, truly. It was also genuinely exhausting.
"I—I can manage on my own just fine, you know."
"That will not do. The high priest's orders. You are to be attended without the slightest lack."
If there had been some other motive behind the help—surveillance, say, or control—he could have accepted it more easily. But no matter how he looked at it, the assistance seemed to spring from genuine goodwill.
In the end he decided to speak plainly. People of the Great Forest were supposed to be hostile toward outsiders; why were these ones so soft?
"We were saved. By the black-snake warrior."
"Come again?"
"We wanted to repay the debt. All of us. But the warrior left. Said he was helping the Bigabol tribe with urgent business."
Somehow the story of someone he knew was spilling out. Deathbringer's expression turned complicated.
"The geography between Jatab and Bigabol has always gotten in the way of our ties, has it not?"
Meanwhile, White Wind sat face to face with the chieftain of Serhang. Tea leaves common enough in the Great Forest—yet rarer than gold beyond it—steeped in a generous pot before her.
"Yet at this coming Katina, one favorable toward contact with the outside is expected to rise. And should he become Great Chieftain…"
"Our connection would finally be complete."
More precious still were the words being exchanged.
"Of course, for him to become Great Chieftain will require a little… help. Many in this forest cannot cast aside long-held attitudes all at once."
Young, but not bad. White Wind felt satisfaction rather than offense at the transparent intent. A partner who was too stupid made for difficult dealings as well.
"Then on our side we would…"
"The offer is appreciated, but that might be a touch…"
White Wind bargained fiercely with the Serhang chieftain over the future. She had come hunting the mana-devouring snake, yet she could not afford to let slip a chance to open wider trade with the Great Forest.
Besides, the former matter was already being handled well enough by the Archmage and the Demon Knight—and any research reports from the Magic Tower would take forever to arrive—so she need not spare it much thought.
"I never expected to speak so freely with the Tower Master. I hope such an opportunity comes again."
"Invite me and I shall gladly answer, you know?"
Separately, curiosity lingered. White Wind wondered why Serhang had grown so generous toward outsiders.
They had never been especially harsh, true, yet neither had they been this hospitable nor so eager for exchange. Something was at work.
"…Ah. The reason, is it?"
She could not leave a question unasked, and this was no matter requiring delicacy. White Wind put the question bluntly.
The chieftain's face—until now mild and composed—flushed for a moment like any ordinary boy's.
"…An outsider warrior whose hair holds two colors bestowed a great favor upon our tribe before he left."
The Demon Knight, of course. White Wind needed no further details to name him. To her knowledge, only two people in the world carried two colors in their hair.
"Of course I do not mean to repay the debt we owe him by serving all of you instead. Only…"
The boy soon wore the chieftain's face again. He drew a calm breath, and the color returned to its proper shade.
"I only learned such strength could exist after seeing him. And that if he ever turned his weapons upon this forest, we would be helpless. But outsiders are different, are they not? Knowing of them is as good as having time to prepare."
Hm. In truth the Demon Knight stood so far beyond any average that knowing about him offered little real preparation… but White Wind saw no need to say so.
If they mistook the Demon Knight for the outside world's standard and opened exchange to ready themselves against him, the Magic Tower still stood to gain, did it not?
"Of course change will alter much of what we are. There will come moments when it feels like destruction. Yet when I think on it, even this forest we serve, even Sangun himself, continues to change—if slowly. So I, too, wish to stop fearing and try adapting."
"And the timing for a new Great Chieftain happens to be ripe, yes?"
"Yes."
"Shall we dispatch people for you, then?"
"The offer is kind, but no. Sudden change only breeds resistance—as with the Bigabol tribe. I wish to change only gradually, just as we are doing now. And in that process I mean to sort out the things we must never surrender."
So outsiders living permanently in the village would cause discomfort; he would simply receive guests a little at a time.
An agonizingly slow method, yet it might be for the best. Better to tame them over several visits than watch them startle at foreign ways and withdraw into their shells like turtles again.
"Hrmm. Thank you for the fine words."
With that, White Wind set her curiosity to rest. Only one thing remained to learn.
The character of the Bigabol chieftain—the one the boy chieftain was backing, and whom the Archmage had reluctantly agreed to aid.
Reformist leanings or not, the policies he enacted as Great Chieftain could turn even open exchange into something far worse.
"Has the talk finished?"
"Mm. What did you find out?"
"…I heard one strange story."
"Oh?"
"There's a mage from Bigabol who naturalized into the Magic Tower, yes? According to him…"
And in White Wind's judgment, the Bigabol chieftain was not suitable at all.
"This has become troublesome."
No matter how perfect a man appeared, anyone who raised a hand against family and lover was not to be trusted.
Indeed—if a man would strike even the bonds that should be most precious, how little must he regard anyone else?
"Please make use of this place while you remain."
"Hah. I am not certain we deserve quarters so fine."
We had been invited as guests—though knowing a revolt was coming, and having been promised payment, the arrangement felt closer to hired work—and we had rendered no small service in securing people.
Whatever the reason, the Archmage and I received luxurious hospitality. We had been given the second-finest house after the chieftain's own.
"Not only did you strike down the traitors who dared threaten the chieftain, you aided us in purging the unclean things they left behind."
For the record, I was not the sole reason the Archmage shared in the luxury.
As a mage, she revealed her true worth after the fighting ended: dismantling barriers, removing magical devices, rebuilding sections of collapsed buildings, and more.
"Moreover, though it must have been a burden, you prepared ample temporary sealing tools… Pray do not refuse. Use everything freely."
With every last priest having joined the rebellion, her value only rose. Magical aid was useful, of course, but only she could seal fellow mages.
"We are truly grateful for the consideration. Yet we are not in a position to remain long. As for the reward we were promised—when might we receive it…?"
Of course, fine treatment changed nothing for us. Soft beds and good meals were welcome, certainly, but our situation was our situation.
Somehow we had ended up deciding one tribe's future—had the revolt succeeded, the one holding power would have changed—but that had never been our purpose.
We had come to meet Sangun.
To learn whether that existence was a demon or not, and further, to uncover the principle behind mana-devouring creatures.
So just now I would rather see Sangun sooner than enjoy any lavish hospitality.
Stay longer and I suspected we would be dragged into this Katina business of choosing a Great Chieftain. I loathed political fights where good and evil were not clear-cut.
"My apologies. That is not a matter I may answer on my own. I shall convey it to the chieftain instead."
"That will suffice."
"I shall bring the reply together with the meal. Please wait a little while."
I watched the guide who had led us this far depart, then sat with my back against the wall. I laid the zweihander carelessly beside me.
"They say they'll bring a meal. A little waiting should do."
So all that talk had been about food.
Well, we hadn't eaten properly while traveling, and there had been no time after arriving either. Even if it fell outside ordinary mealtimes, we needed something in our stomachs.
"White Wind's group will likely be late. Just as it was for us coming in, Jatab is blocking the path, so they cannot move rashly."
I checked my own fullness while half-listening to the Archmage.
The people White Wind was bringing were for investigation; they would not actually lighten my own workload, so I paid them little mind.
"Hm? There's a warning as well."
Then the Archmage, checking the contact, furrowed her brow slightly.
"Some trouble with the Bigabol tribe…?"
Thud, thud.
A dull knock sounded from the door of the building we occupied. The Archmage looked up from the contact and cleared her throat.
"Ahem. You may enter."
The voice that emerged after the throat-clearing carried a faintly subdued quality.
"We have brought the evening meal."
Yet at the mention of food, her whisper cut off for a moment.
Soon wooden bowls laden with dishes were carried in one after another. There were so many that no amount of thought could convince me the two of us could finish them all.
"…This seems rather excessive. We are grateful for the kindness, but the quantity is far too…"
Even if one wished to treat a benefactor with every possible care, a revolt had just occurred. Was this truly all right? Did a full granary make it acceptable?
"The chieftain ordered that there be not the slightest shortcoming in hosting our benefactors."
"Mmm…"
I remained doubtful but swallowed my silence for now.
The Archmage would handle it. Classic "dump it on someone else" from the despair-mode group project playbook.
"Ah, and I have also brought the reply to the matter you inquired about. The chieftain says that Sangun is an existence commonly revered by every tribe, and that because it happens to be the Katina period, an opportunity for audience is not easily obtained. He will strive to keep the promise, but asks that you understand if time is required."
Well, the Archmage was always good at this sort of thing, wasn't she? Just as I took the lead in physical work.
So it should be fine. Of course a truly good person must never do such things, but still.
"If that is the case, then it cannot be helped."
"We thank you for your understanding."
I let the conversation drift past while examining the food. There was a great deal of very sweet fruit and meat… Honestly, a bit much.
"──!"
"──la!"
At any rate the talk seemed finished; people withdrew one by one. The way they stepped backward without showing their backs was rather curious.
"Outside seems a little noisy. Is something the matter?"
"Nothing of consequence. They are merely preparing the execution of the revolt's ringleaders."
"…For that, I believe I hear a child's voice."
"Ah… that is because, should a revolt occur, the ringleader's entire three clans are subject to capital punishment."
So now we could eat? But the Archmage still hadn't sat down at the table.
My concept might be attacking the elderly rather than respecting them, yet I still wanted the elder to take the first bite.
"Ah! If you wish to watch…"
"I must absolutely decline."
Was the Archmage's expression actually that foul right now? I had never seen that face on her before.
"…Yes. Still, should you change your mind, please speak at any time. We shall prepare a place for you."
"We thank you for the kindness."
Nothing is more frightening than someone who never gets angry finally getting angry.
I hid my rattled insides, folded my arms, and closed my eyes. Gurgle. My stomach growled just loud enough for me alone to hear.
"I forgot how closed-off this place is."
Fortunately the Archmage sat down before too long. I opened my eyes naturally and glanced sideways, wondering when I might pick up the utensils.
"Rebellion is a grave crime, yes, yet destroying three clans has been forbidden since ages past…"
Wait, what did you just say?
"…They're executing the ringleaders and their families. Do you have any mind to go watch?"
Are you insane?!
"I thought as much. You're not the sort who'd go look."
My face answered for me without my meaning to, and the Archmage nodded to herself. I still couldn't process the part about wiping out three clans, yet she alone made a little "tch" sound and returned to calm.
Only I—only I had been abandoned once more in this barbaric age.
"Ah, right. This is something I scarcely need to warn you about, but be careful. From what I learned, the Bigabol chieftain uses violence against his family. His younger sibling fled to another tribe because of the abuse. He may look mild on the surface, but inside…"
Yet the horrible news did not end with one item.
Using violence against family, abusing a sibling until they fled—that meant domestic abuser. And I had just helped the bastard.
Murder would have been better! This is a world where you kill or get killed! But domestic violence? Domestic violence??
And in a world with neither police to report to nor public authority?
I feel like I'm losing my mind. I really feel like I'm losing my mind.
Tap, tap.
Then, through my vacant spirit, a knock sounded—polite, light, and cheerfully out of place amid the ruin of my thoughts.
"I heard you declined to watch the execution, so I came to ask again. No mind to go look? Truly?"
Without even waiting for permission the door burst open. Given the other's rank, protest would have been awkward, yet it was clearly rude.
"Looking couldn't hurt, could it?"
From behind him a child's wail rose, high and bone-chilling.