I Want to Speak (3)
People have a tendency to look down on things they have never experienced themselves.
Even when they hear of the dangers, if some greater usefulness exists beyond them, they will often rationalize it away and accept the risk in the end.
Just like right now.
“I have observed your deeds carefully. There were some unfortunate incidents, but… you still rendered a great deal of aid.”
I regarded the newly dispatched archbishop from the temple in silence. His manner was thoroughly amicable.
Was it because I had more than doubled the previously crawling pace of the island’s reclamation? Because I had taken the Inquisitor’s place on the front lines so she could rest and opened a path? Or because, whether the temple folk hated me or not, I had kept their casualties to the absolute minimum?
“Thank you for assisting in the reclamation of the island.”
Well, it hardly mattered. Whatever the reason, the archbishop had ultimately decided I was a useful piece and chosen to look the other way.
“Archbishop!”
Of course the bishop who had personally faced my rampage bristled at that decision. Naturally—after witnessing my exploits he still insisted I was a danger and demanded execution.
“You must not take him lightly! How can you know when that man will lose his reason?!”
“The Hero herself has certified him, and has he not proven himself these past several days?”
“Archbishop!”
Personally I did not fail to understand the bishop’s position. It was simply that my life hung in the balance, so I rather hoped the archbishop would win the argument.
“I cannot see why you are so overwrought about this.”
That said, I did not particularly like the archbishop either.
Nothing infuriates like a superior who has never known the hardships of the field—and second of all…
“Ugh, ruins the appetite…”
As Dev put it, walking up to someone mid-meal and striking up conversation only spoils the food.
I resumed the meal that had been interrupted while the bishop quarreled—under the thin pretense of persuasion—with the archbishop. After retaking the final city and holding out until reinforcements arrived, I had gone without a proper meal and was ravenous.
The Inquisitor’s accumulated fatigue had finally burst—despite my having shouldered every filthy task—and she had collapsed asleep before even eating, but that was neither here nor there.
“Sir.”
When the meal was nearly finished, Dev, who had finished ahead of me, rolled his eyes slightly while still holding food in one hand. A quiet signal to slip away.
“Go on.”
The Archmage, who had supported us with pen rather than steel, provided covering fire as well. He seemed to have noticed that I had been uncomfortable around people ever since that day.
Perhaps it was she who felt uncomfortable. Since then she had grown oddly… distant. Yet she never left me abandoned among others, nor allowed me to leave alone when I departed.
In any case I did not refuse the consideration. With a rampage now on my record, I no longer wished to entangle myself with the Order.
Conversation with its high ranks? Even worse. My sole connection to the Order was Kimchi Dumpling, and that was quite enough.
“Wow, seriously. Look how everyone’s attitude flipped overnight.”
Under Dev’s guidance I slipped out of the dining hall—if escaping the notice of only the bishop and archbishop counted as slipping. Once the gazes that had silently watched us the entire time finally cut off, I felt at ease at last.
“If we sail at dawn we won’t even have to see their faces again. Ugh.”
My thoughts exactly. Once tonight passed we could finally leave this island.
“They say there’ll be a triumphal ceremony or whatever in Zakrati… but that only lasts a day.”
Strictly speaking, what we had done was not so different from what we had done in other regions, yet somehow it felt thoroughly wearisome.
Was it because the scale of what we had endured had been so vast? City after city, then a sudden leap to the entire region. The time spent here had been overwhelming as a result…
“More importantly, is it finally time for our reward? Heh, ten million gal…”
Hmm. Right. We had spent nearly a month in Yabad alone. Enough to make anyone sick of the place.
“Ah, and we still have to collect the sword, don’t we? A blade forged from dragon scales and teeth… I can’t even picture it.”
Still, as Dev said, all that remained was the settlement.
I made my unhurried way back to our assigned quarters, leaving the one far more excited than I.
Uncollected corpses of men and demons greeted us at every turn. The ash-smell drifting from buildings reduced to cinders was a free bonus.
“Hey, finally back?”
Or perhaps Baramson popping up with a peekaboo from our room was the real bonus.
“What’s with that look?”
“Looks like you came over with the archbishop’s party.”
“I was the one who ferried them in the first place. And I’ll be the one taking you lot out at dawn too.”
“Ah.”
I sat on the bed I had claimed in the room that served as a sort of guest house.
For reference, the Inquisitor was sleeping in the same room, rolled up tight in her blanket. There were barely any intact buildings left, let alone spare rooms.
“So why’d you come, then?”
Dev set the food he had brought on the bed right beside the Inquisitor and found his own spot.
That left Dev and me occupying the wall side, the Inquisitor sleeping opposite, and Baramson seated squarely in the middle.
“Well… it isn’t anything particularly official…”
Baramson rolled his eyes, then fixed them on me.
“I remember you refused last time, but there’s no one else left for me to cling to.”
Those eyes closed firmly and his head bowed with precise formality.
“Please. Let me pay the ten million gal that was to come from the Lord of Zakrati in your stead.”
It was a request far too heavy and earnest to cut off sharply as I had before. Even under the concept, one felt obliged at least to hear the reason.
“Of course I know. It isn’t a matter of persuading you. But… you’re the only one I can persuade.”
“Convincing Sir looks a lot harder than convincing the Lord, though.”
“No. To me you’re the more possible one.”
Baramson hesitated, then added,
“Because that person will no longer try to be indebted to me… to us.”
“Us?”
“I mean me and my brothers.”
At that point curiosity that the previous clues could no longer satisfy began to rise.
No—seriously. What sort of relationship made someone want to pay off another’s debt? And from the way he spoke, not only Baramson but his brothers seemed ready to step forward as well.
“…Why?”
“…?”
“I understand the desire to pay it in place. That part I can simply accept. But why you’re going out of your way to step up is what I can’t grasp at all.”
Fortunately Dev asked for me. He must have been every bit as curious.
“Rather than blurting out ‘let me pay the debt,’ why not lay out the circumstances and then ask? At least that would make persuasion easier.”
At Dev’s words Baramson’s expression shifted slightly. He seemed to be deliberating whether to speak or stay silent.
Even that deliberation ended when he met my expression—one that looked as though a needle would not pierce it.
“Because that person is my mother.”
Like a dam bursting, the bombshells began to pour out.
“What?”
“Not my birth mother. My birth mother died forty years ago. That person took me in afterward.”
“…The Lord?”
“Yeah.”
Once the floodgate opens, it does not close easily. Baramson dry-washed his face and began to unburden the circumstances he had kept tightly sealed.
“Not just me. Outlaw Chimawa, Blue Moon Watia, Pure Tony, Lion Kampen… countless other pirates grew up under that person. Counting the children who never became pirates, even more.”
“No—how…?”
“Because every one of them was dying after losing their parents.”
Even Dev had not expected this; his ears and tail pricked straight up.
I was no different. A good thing I had been pretending disinterest with my eyes closed, or managing my expression would have been difficult.
“To explain this I have to go back forty years… After the zombie catastrophe forty years ago broke out and was finally resolved, the Yabad region was in an uproar over the orphan problem. Parents had evacuated the children first, so roughly a quarter of the survivors were kids. Zakrati was no different.”
“Ah, so?”
“Yeah. As you already sensed, the one who stepped forward was Lady Piuon. She took them all in, saying she could not let the children die.”
But the story was not finished. Baramson leaned back.
“In the process she was stripped of her place as heir… Ah, she wasn’t lord yet. The lord of the time opposed Lady Piuon’s charity work.”
“…So she was stripped.”
“Right. Not only that—every bit of support was cut off and she was driven out of the castle.”
“Wait. Then the food and clothes for the kids…?”
“Naturally Lady Piuon earned them herself.”
“What? Is that even possible?”
“How could it be? With that many kids?”
He waved a dismissive hand. The atmosphere was such that if liquor had been present he would already have cracked a bottle.
“The reason my brothers and I became pirates is all because of that. Our benefactor grew thinner and thinner doing every filthy job imaginable to make money, yet the money kept running out. On top of that the orphans never decreased—they only increased… What else were brats who knew nothing but the sea supposed to choose?”
“…Did the Lord approve?”
“Are you insane? She absolutely forbade it.”
There were not even cigarettes here. For the first time in a long while I wanted a smoke. Listening to this sober made my chest unbearably tight.
“The day the oldest sister brought money home from piracy, Lady Piuon chased her out and told her never to show her face again until the day she died. And for the first time she emptied an entire jug of liquor. She was someone who would not even drink cold water in front of us.”
“…That sister?”
“Lady Piuon is someone who does not break her word if she can help it. She truly never showed her face again until death. Same for every brother who became a pirate afterward. Ah—of course she personally conducted the funerals. As is usual for sea folk, most left no bodies.”
“And yet you still chose to become pirates?”
“I told you. We had nothing else we could do. We weren’t even in a position to learn anything. Of course the Lord tried every way she could to teach us… but honestly? Grabbing a sword and going out to sea is faster and easier than studying letters.”
He even drank heavily of alcohol he did not like. Rather than forcing liquor down my throat I wanted to smash the bottle over my own head.
“I’m not claiming it was a good deed. But I grew up watching bloodstained brothers sneak over at night and leave meat, vegetables, and daily necessities for us. And when I finally reached the age I could go to sea, there were still plenty younger than me. So what choice did I have? If dirty money protects the family, you earn it even if it means being cursed.”
“……”
“That the Lord will never ask anything of us is part of the same story. She’s no fool—how could she not know that we who became pirates left those things behind? She knew, yet she had no choice but to accept them, knowing that if she refused the children would all die. Miserable as it was, she let it pass.”
“…She considers that a debt, then.”
“Yeah. So when she became lord she permitted privateers, something that never suited her nature. She said she could not stop the children who had grown from her generation’s failure. Of course the pirate generation that grew up under welfare these days is out of the question…”
Baramson smiled faintly at that. “Thanks to it we don’t even pay tribute to Zakrati.” It was not a funny story.
“I’ve gone off track… The reason I want to redeem that person’s debt is because of that. She seems to think she owes us… but really, we are the ones who owe her.”
Ah, this is driving me insane.
I barely restrained the urge to claw at my scalp. Stories like this stirred the conscience inside me far, far too strongly.
I was supposed to consider how the concept would react, yet the real me was already thrashing first.
“So please—can I… can we pay the ten million gal in her place? Whether the Lord has money or not, she is someone who can do far more with that sum. Unlike us.”
But character collapse is—character collapse…!
“Hmm, so he says, Sir…?”
“Please.”
Character collapse still beat my conscience…!
“So.”
The money itself I did not mind forgoing. I was not money-mad, and what reason was there to tenaciously collect payment from people who had been swept up in disaster?
But simply saying “Sure, you pay it” here would be character collapse, and therefore—
“I told you clearly. Your devotion or whatever is none of my concern. Do not drag me into your circumstances.”
If there were a way to help without collapsing the concept, fine. But I could not help while enduring collapse. Dams do not burst from a single great hole, but from small cracks.
A soft rustle.
Was it my imagination? The blanket lump behind Baramson seemed to stir.
“We’ve arrived.”
I stood at the gunwale listening to Baramson’s call—Baramson who since yesterday had grown awkward, or rather, businesslike and distant.
The approaching sight of Zakrati was far better than when we had left. No smoke rose from flames, and ruined buildings were either demolished or under repair; that alone told the story.
“When we disembark the people will cheer, so don’t be too startled.”
The harbor was packed with crowds clutching flags and handkerchiefs.
Anyone who could look at that and not think of the word “overcoming” would have to be an extreme realist.
“It is not finished yet, yet the people already treat it as finished.”
Or someone as rigidly principled as the Inquisitor.
“You are not wrong, yet have we not overcome the greatest hardship? That is precisely the meaning of this ceremony—to give hope that, having passed the greatest trial, the rest can also be endured. A kind of morale-raising.”
“Ah, I understand. Then requesting a parade of us is also…?”
“Exactly so.”
Still, I was glad the Archmage had returned. Now there was someone to explain things, even if much was omitted to match the Inquisitor’s viewpoint.
“I wonder whether I should even be included.”
More than that, after so long only traveling inland, the seasickness was no joke.
I barely held my churning stomach in check and let Dev’s words slide past. That fellow also had a quiet habit of undervaluing what he himself had done.
“What do you mean leave you out? You are the one who saved the Hero.”
“Ugh, that’s…”
That Hero I had nearly killed, mind you.
At that moment I stepped away from the ship’s side. The gangplank bridging the deck thumped down to the lower deck.
My destination was the cabin assigned to me.
“Where are you going? You will have to come back up shortly.”
The Archmage voiced his puzzlement. It was not an unreasonable question; anyone intending to disembark ought to remain on deck.
“Demon Knight?”
But I had no intention of joining the triumphal ceremony. The real me found it burdensome and disliked it, and it did not fit the concept either.
So enjoy yourselves to the full. I would disembark once the harbor crowds had all followed the parade and vanished.
“…Surely you are not thinking of skipping it?”
“I do not play the clown.”
I was absolutely not fleeing because I feared I would vomit during the parade.
“Oh dear.”
The Archmage hastily followed after me. He seemed to intend some persuasion, but unfortunately my position would not change.
Besides, I possessed a cheat key.
“Do you know how famous you are in Zakrati? If one such as you is absent the people will surely be disappointed—”
I seized my right arm and clenched my teeth before the Archmage could finish.
Whether he interpreted it as the demon stirring or as me believing I lacked the right to stand there—well. It hardly mattered.
“…I understand. I shall convey it properly to the Lord.”
Either way it would register as an unblockable technique against the Archmage. Eheheh.
I easily shook him off and shut myself inside the cabin. Before the joy of skipping the nuisance could settle, seasickness came charging in with a cheerful “Hi! I’m seasickness!”
After so long, it truly felt like dying.
Knock knock.
More than that—who was it? The one who had knocked.
I had already defeated the only Archmage who could persuade me, so why…!
“What.”
I confirmed the visitor while still lying in the hammock. Opening the door or any such courtesy did not exist. If you dislike it, leave!
“Demon Knight.”
But the voice that came was unexpected. I blinked. I had thought he would not speak to me again—why had Baramson come looking for me once more?
“The commission fee is ready.”
For a moment I failed to understand the words from beyond the door.
Did I have a commission fee to collect from him… Ah! Hunting Bipurit and the salvation of Zakrati had been separate commissions.
I had drawn the advance so lavishly that I had completely forgotten the balance. The content had also diverged too far from the original request.
“I scraped everything together and managed seven million gal… it may fall short.”
Though he was speaking to me, his sour mood did not seem to have improved; Baramson’s tone remained rather businesslike.
I did not mind much.
Thinking the sum a bit meager compared to the work—well. From the start it was not an amount an individual, especially a pirate, could pay.
Even accounting for the penalty fees taken from the Archmage, the same held true.
“If it is short I will pay more. But I will need some time…”
“Confirmed.”
At heart he was the sort who would keep running around helping people in the future. I had no desire to squeeze money tenaciously from such a person. I accepted without further comment.
It absolutely was not because the conversation had worsened the seasickness so I simply took it. Really.
As though the triumphal ceremony had begun, great cheers started to rise from outside.