Uninvited Guests (3)
One of the masked men continued.
"Shouldn't you hurry and put out that fire? If it spreads to the next building, it'll reach here eventually."
"Shut up! Release the children at once!"
"Sorry, but that's not going to happen."
Boodle, the eldest present, laid a steadying hand on Anna's shoulder to calm the agitated baroness. Then he spoke for himself.
"What is it you people want?"
"What we want? You wouldn't understand even if we told you. Not with the baron nowhere in sight."
"I may not know what you seek, but free the children. If you need a hostage, take me in their place."
"Afraid that won't work. These are the baron's blood. That's what makes them valuable as hostages."
"You must have a purpose. What do you want? Money? If it's money, we can give you as much as—"
"Hey, Baroness. Don't push us. You think we'd pull a stunt like this for mere coin?"
Even amid the standoff, the flames in the cottage showed no sign of dying down. The servants, still unaware of the situation inside the main house, devoted themselves entirely to fighting the fire.
Boodle pressed on.
"People will be coming from the city soon. The guard as well. Why not simply turn yourselves in? No one has been hurt yet—there could still be leniency..."
Bang—!
With a violent crash the study door was ripped clean off its hinges and sent flying. From within stepped yet another figure wearing the same mask. He was a massive man, the largest of all the masked intruders by far.
The man surveyed the scene from the entrance—his comrades and the Greenhilt household locked in confrontation in the central drawing room—and slowly shook his head from side to side. Whether he had planned the entire affair or not, he was clearly the leader of this band.
Without a word he moved behind the other masked men.
Watching him, Roy was already running through a series of deductions. Several hypotheses were hardening into near-certainty.
One. What they wanted was inside the baron's study. Whether they had already found it or not, the fact that they showed no interest in any other room suggested they had known the object's location in advance. It was valuable, certainly—but not money.
Two. They are strong, yet nowhere near the baron's level in either raw power or political clout. Anyone that powerful would belong to a great noble house of equal or higher rank. Such people would never need to resort to this sort of farce. The numbers they had brought and their reliance on hostages made it plain: at best they were roughly the baron's equals, and more likely a step below. Whatever prize had them so desperate must be something truly special for them to go to this much trouble.
Three. Using the baron's absence, setting fire to the cottage as a diversion—everything about their actions is calculated and planned. Still, so many people came and went from the mansion that it was impossible to say for certain they were familiar faces. They might have planted a spy inside, or they might simply possess an excellent information network.
And most important of all—
Four. The most careless among them is the one holding me—a child.
Roy looked toward the people near the front entrance and began winking furiously. The first to notice was Geren.
What in the world are you planning?! It's too dangerous!
Geren was already dreading whatever mad scheme Roy was about to unleash. This was no training session; this was real. Yet he dared not signal Roy to stop for fear of tipping off the intruders, so he simply stared hard at the boy's face.
Roy, for his part, quietly closed his eyes. In his mind he began rapidly constructing the magic circles for the spells he would use—double casting, two instances of the same magic at once. There was nothing to fear. These men would never kill a precious hostage on the spot.
Hoo...
His targets: the man holding him, and the one holding Jerry.
Here goes!
The instant the spells completed, Roy's eyes snapped open. His gaze met Geren's. Seeing the absolute certainty in those eyes, Geren had no choice but to grit his teeth.
You crazy little—!
"Ugh... m-my body..."
"What? What's wrong with you all of a sudden?"
The masked man gripping Roy was thrown into complete confusion. Psychic Bind—the same spell that had already claimed Jerry—now held him as well. The hands that had been pinning Roy were now locked tightly against his own sides; no amount of strength could pry them free.
"I-I can't move my body!"
"Nnngh... m-me neither?"
At that precise moment Geren, who had been waiting for his chance behind Anna, charged forward. He held neither sword nor wooden practice blade, yet his body, reinforced to the limit with mana, moved with terrifying speed. No one present could match him.
"What the—?!"
The masked man nearest the entrance—the one who had been holding Roy—never stood a chance.
"Guh—!"
Geren drove the heel of his palm upward under the man's chin in the same motion as his charge. The blow was so powerful that the man's body, still locked by the spell, lifted clean off the floor before crashing down in a heap. Unable even to break his fall under Psychic Bind, he lay sprawled and moaning, clearly badly hurt.
"Snap out of it!"
The massive leader barked the order. Meanwhile Geren was already racing down the stairs toward the sword that lay where Jerry had fallen. But the big man saw what he intended and stepped into his path. The blade was trapped beneath one enormous foot.
Roy shouted.
"Jerry, what are you doing?! Get up and run!"
Even though the man holding him was bound by Psychic Bind, Jerry still had not grasped the situation. Only Roy's voice finally jolted him back to his senses.
The sudden reversal left the masked men reeling—and Anna and the butlers as well. But Boodle, seasoned by years of experience, immediately fell into step with Geren. As Boodle moved to shield Roy, who moments earlier had been a hostage, Geren called out.
"I need a weapon. That man looks like he can fight. He's built like a mountain."
"Can you hold him a little longer? I'll find you one."
"Please do, Deputy Butler."
Boodle sprinted off. Roy was pulled to safety near the entrance by Anna and Chief Butler Ibaldo. Geren, keeping a wary eye on the huge masked man, edged back until the stairs were at his back so he could protect Jerry, who had fled upward.
Outside the entrance, Roy's Psychic Bind had fully dissipated. The three remaining masked men—excluding the one Geren had floored—drew together, backs to one another.
The big man demanded of his subordinate,
"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Get a grip!"
"Forgive me. My body just... wouldn't move..."
The leader's gaze swept over each person in turn.
"Hmph. I don't know who it was, but someone cast a spell without a sound. No chant at all. Was it you?"
He pointed straight at Geren. Of everyone present, Geren was the only plausible suspect. After a brief hesitation, Geren simply nodded.
"That's right. I did it."
"Impressive. That footwork just now, too... How exactly did you manage it?"
Geren had already watched Roy use Psychic Bind several times during lessons; he knew the spell well. He felt no obligation to explain it to suspicious strangers.
"Have you lost your mind? You think I'd tell you how?"
Outside the entrance Roy heard Geren's voice carry clearly.
Hmm...
His estimation of Geren rose, if only a fraction. He was not alone in that regard. Anna was staring at Geren with open astonishment. Thanks to the man's decisive action, both Roy and Jerry had been rescued unharmed. She wanted to thank him on the spot, but the situation still forbade it.
"My lady, is something happening inside?"
The servants who had been ferrying buckets of water were beginning to take notice of the disturbance within the main house. Anna issued orders at once.
"Ibaldo! Devote yourself to putting out the fire. And look after Roy and Anna."
"Understood."
"Have Marek inform the city guard and bring as many people as he can. Tell him to wring every last drop of mana from himself and hurry."
"It shall be done."
Ibaldo set the gathering servants into motion. The fire was still an urgent crisis; no one had time to question Anna's commands.
The only person displeased with the arrangement was Roy.
Damn it all.
He had wanted to help fight the fire and been sent back to the mansion. Now that he was finally in a position to act, he was being packed off again. But what could he do? He was still a child.
No... maybe I can use this.
Once more relegated to the protected rear, Roy coolly began turning the situation over in his mind.
If I'm going to be protected anyway, I should exploit that very fact.
Chief Butler Ibaldo had the critical task of extinguishing the fire; he could not keep Roy and Anna glued to his side. One did not take the lord's children into a place full of flying sparks and embers.
Misha?
As if on cue, the maid Misha appeared in Roy's field of vision. Though she had already come of age and was a proper young woman, at sixteen her frame was still slight; she could barely manage a single full bucket of water. At the moment she was as useless as Roy or Anna—dead weight.
"Ibaldo! You're busy— we'll stay with Misha. Please go put out the fire first!"
"What? Me?"
Misha jumped at the sudden mention of her name, but Roy's gambit worked perfectly.
"Yes. Misha, that will do. Until the fire is under control, your duty is to keep the two of them safe."
"Yes, Chief Butler."
"You two must not leave Misha's side under any circumstances. Understood?"
Roy and Anna both nodded toward Ibaldo. Of course Roy had no intention of obeying.
"Take care of us, Misha."
Misha looked at the youngest young master beaming up at her—and felt an abrupt chill race down her spine.