The Calm Before the Storm (1)
The village built upon the fertile plains below the hill came into view. It was a sizable settlement of roughly a hundred households.
“A place that large should hold between four and six hundred people,” Risten said. “They’ll almost certainly have a local militia.”
My army and I had left our own lands and crossed into Cluiston territory. On the way we had clashed three or four times with the border guards, but they were never a serious obstacle. Instead of resisting, they took one look at our numbers, panicked, and fled in complete disarray. A few tried to race back to Harmel Castle to sound the alarm, but Risten’s trackers ran them down and cut every last one of them down before they could deliver their warning.
As of this moment, Lord Cain still had no idea that my forces had already set foot inside his domain. For now.
Before we moved against the village at the foot of the hill, I summoned Olmati for preliminary negotiations. I gave him three soldiers as escort and instructed him clearly.
“Tell the village representative the following: If they surrender peacefully and swear fealty to Lord Richard, we will guarantee the safety of every resident. If they resist, we will make no distinction between men, women, children, or the elderly. Every male will be slaughtered…”
Holding absolute power is always precarious. Not long ago, Luzen of Langdal had taught me a brutal lesson by massacring every blood relative who had supported the incestuous mother and son. To survive I had to grow colder without end. For the sake of the people I loved—Dana, Unia, and the vassals who trusted me—I had to become a lord of terror to my enemies.
I had donned the lion’s mane. I was now a merciless, savage beast. The cruelty I displayed was born from the fear of losing everything in a single moment.
If the village representative refused my demands, I intended to crush them without mercy.
Wait for me, Unia. The more land I swallow, the higher your value becomes and the better your chances of survival. Until the day we meet again, I will not stop my advance.
I continued, “The women will be given to Lanchester’s warriors and will bear children carrying outsider blood. Tell them that if they do not wish their village to be defiled by foreign seed, they had best surrender at once.”
Two hours later Olmati returned with the village chief and the heads of the most influential families. These were not mere elders; they were effectively the lords of this small domain. The man who stepped forward was a middle-aged figure with a thick black beard. His name was Donovan, and I paid far more attention to him than to the nominal chief.
“If we surrender, the village will suffer no harm?” Donovan asked.
“As long as you provide for my troops while we are stationed here, I will issue strict orders forbidding plunder or rape. My men will not be permitted to harm any resident.”
“Very well.”
Donovan rose, then dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
“From this day forward, Chainlake Village belongs to the Richard family. We will pay taxes to our lord and, in times of war, lay down our lives in his service.”
“A wise choice.”
I smiled with satisfaction. Both Donovan and the village chief kissed the back of my hand in formal submission.
Later, Donovan gave me a fuller picture. The Cluiston family had not even begun proper preparations for war. Fratricidal strife had shattered any semblance of unity, and the vassals were tearing each other apart. With no future in sight, Chainlake had wasted no time switching sides. The village now belonged to me.
My four hundred soldiers entered Chainlake without bloodshed. The residents poured into the streets, eager to catch a glimpse of Lord Richard. When they saw my face, their eyes widened and gasps of astonishment rippled through the crowd.
“He’s so young! And handsome!”
“Look at his lady! She’s breathtaking!”
“These are to be our new rulers? It feels like a dream!”
Only then did I truly understand that a ruler who wishes to unite people must first possess an appearance worthy of reverence. Humans instinctively honor beauty. Without any prompting, the villagers began to deify both Dana and me. They welcomed the arrival of such beautiful new lords, and because of it I did not need to expend any effort winning their hearts.
A simple welcoming ceremony was held in the central square. The village chief stepped forward as representative, swore loyalty, and formally asked me to assume governance of the village. I accepted with solemn dignity. The entire affair was little more than ritual.
Once it was over, the soldiers began pitching tents on a wide open field while I and my officers took up residence in Donovan’s manor.
That night, two letters arrived from Kelly, who was guarding Lanchester Castle. One was from Sinclair. The other had come from Pasvachio in Metis.
Given the circumstances, I opened Pasvachio’s first, afraid some emergency had arisen. The contents, however, were entirely unexpected.
My lord, a woman named Cyrilla has asked me to confirm whether the Harry you once spoke of is the same man as Harry Forsa. She provided detailed accounts of his past, his appearance, and his personality. She says her younger brother was taken by debt collectors, that he was tall and powerfully built, and that he possessed an innocent, childlike nature. She also heard rumors that he had joined a bandit group near Nobern.
— Pasvachio
Everything matched. The hair color, the older sister sold into slavery, the gentle personality—every detail aligned perfectly with the Harry I had known. My intuition told me there was a ninety-percent chance that Cyrilla was Harry’s real older sister.
A smile I could not suppress rose to my lips as old memories surfaced.
“Later on, if you happen to meet my sister while traveling, will you tell her I missed her terribly? And that I’m sorry I couldn’t save her back then?”
“Why are you talking like that? You should tell her yourself!”
“Hehe… I don’t know. Maybe I won’t get the chance.”
With a tired smile Harry had pulled an ivory comb from his pocket and pressed it into my hand.
“This is the comb my sister used. The debt collectors took everything else. This is all I could save. If you meet her, please return it for me. I’m counting on you, brother.”
“Harry! Don’t die! Harry!”
Just remembering it made my eyes sting. It was not the time to indulge in sentiment, yet thinking of the man who had given his life for me left my chest tight.
I let out a long sigh, sat down at the desk, and called for Haida. She had been quietly cleaning the room with Evynee.
“Bring me a pen and paper.”
“Yes, Master.”
We had only moved the bare necessities into this temporary office. Haida quickly located a quill, ink, and parchment from one of the crates on the floor and handed them to me.
I wrote everything I remembered about Harry, sketched the shape of the ivory comb from memory, and explained that I wished to meet her in person. I deliberately omitted the fact of his death. I added that if she truly was his sister, she was no different from my own family, and that I would consult with the Metis family to ensure she would be cared for by the Richard household for the rest of her life.
If you are indeed Harry’s true sister, then you are family to me as well. I will grant you land and the highest honors. I pray we may meet soon so that I can return what belongs to you and speak with you face to face.
— Richard
I finished the letter with a heavy heart.
“Master, here.”
When I looked up, Haida was offering me a handkerchief. Evynee bounced in place with an innocent smile.
“Master, your eyes are red. Red, red!”
“Evynee, you mustn’t speak that way to the Master.”
At some point tears had welled up. I gave an awkward smile and dabbed at my eyes with the handkerchief.
I melted wax over a candle, sealed the letter, and pressed the Richard family crest—the goddess of war—into the wax.
Holding the finished letter, I murmured, “Lady Cyrilla. If you truly are Harry’s sister, I will give you land and the finest treatment. I pray we can meet soon…”
I handed the letter to Haida.
“Deliver this to the pigeon keeper.”
“Yes, I’ll return shortly.”
The moment Haida turned with the letter, my eye fell on the second envelope—from Sinclair.
“Wait. Hold on a moment.”
“Yes, Master.”
I broke the seal on Sinclair’s letter. Cyrilla’s handwriting had been crude and messy, clearly written by someone only barely literate. Sinclair’s, by contrast, was neat and refined, exactly what one would expect from a noblewoman. The words flowed easily.
As I read, my expression quickly changed to one of astonishment.
My lord, Lady Adelia is currently traveling toward your location accompanied by the Valkyrie Mercenary Company. She has expressed her firm intention to join you on the battlefield.
— Sinclair
“Adelia is coming?”
The realization that I had almost forgotten about her hit me anew, and I fell into deep thought about how I should receive her.
We’ve been apart for so long that she almost feels like a stranger…
It’s going to be awkward when we see each other again. Definitely.
“Ah, that’s right. She’s also my fiancée. I’d completely forgotten.”
I scratched my head, then wrote a reply to Kelly instructing her to greet Adelia with the highest possible courtesy. If Adelia insisted on coming to the front lines, I told Kelly to allow it. Additional fighting strength was never a bad thing—especially when it came in the form of the renowned Valkyrie Mercenary Company. The news made me want to dance with joy.
When Adelia arrives, I’ll make sure we can interact as comfortably as before. Still, seeing her after so long is going to feel a bit stiff.
I set thoughts of Adelia aside and handed both letters to Haida.
“Take these to the pigeon keeper.”
“Yes, I’ll be back soon.”
The moment Haida left with Evynee, a knock sounded at the door.
“It’s Luzen. I have a report, my lord.”
“Come in.”
I rose from the desk and moved with Luzen to the large table in the center of the room where a map of Cluiston territory was spread out. We sat down together.
“We have finished selecting children from the prominent families within the village and organizing them into units.”
The plan was to take the sons and daughters of Chainlake’s influential houses as soldiers so the village could not harbor any treacherous thoughts later. It was a standard hostage measure.
“Five cavalry and fifteen infantry, twenty in total. We primarily chose eldest sons, though two eldest daughters were included from families without male heirs.”
“Well done.”
I nodded and stared at the illustration of Harmel Castle on the map.
“Luzen, I have no intention of dragging this war out. According to Donovan, the enemy cannot trust their mad lord and are completely divided. As a result, the only troops currently under Cain’s direct command are the garrison at Harmel Castle—fewer than two hundred men. I intend to exploit that weakness. Tomorrow we march straight for Harmel Castle. Within this week, I will settle matters with Cain once and for all.”