I. Where the Frost Lingers (14)
I. Where the Frost Lingers (14)
After leaving Joseph at the manor house, Keldric searched the area around the village for the cavalryman who had escaped.
But in the end, he never found him.
The cavalryman hadn't been wounded, so there was no blood trail, and tracking the marks left by his escape was impossible.
The horse must have churned up the snow as it galloped, but fresh snowfall had already covered the tracks.
In the end, dawn broke with nothing but a lingering unease.
With the morning sun on his face, Keldric had no choice but to head back to the manor house.
He'd been running around all night. His body, which had been drenched in sweat, was now cold and clammy.
But there was no time for a leisurely bath. He had a great deal of news to deliver to Hilmer.
Keldric hurried along and entered the manor's front yard.
"I'll take his arms, so you grab his legs."
"Ugh, he's heavy. Were we supposed to strip the armor off?"
"We have to. It won't burn well anyway."
The manor house was still in chaos after the night's uproar.
The blood-soaked kitchen was a problem, but the bodies of the mercenaries and cavalrymen Keldric had slaughtered were an even greater one.
The servants gathered firewood on a patch of dry ground and stacked the bodies on top, layer upon layer.
Five mercenaries and five cavalrymen. Ten corpses in total, and from the look of it, they meant to burn them all at once.
Keldric stopped briefly as he crossed the front yard.
Malcolm, who had been gathering firewood ahead, came running toward him in a panic.
"Malcolm."
"Master Keldric! Are you unharmed?"
"Me? Well..."
At Malcolm's words, Keldric looked himself over from head to toe.
There wasn't a single wound on his body. At most, the shoulder of his surcoat was slightly torn.
A fair amount of blood had spattered across his armor, but none of it belonged to Keldric. It was all someone else's.
That was a rather grisly thing to realize. Malcolm's face went a little pale.
"Y-you look unharmed. Thank goodness."
"Yes, thank you. Where is my brother?"
"Lord Hilmer is in the back courtyard with Lady Bellaf. He also told me to bring you there when you returned."
"I'll go alone."
Malcolm, who had been stacking firewood beneath the heap of corpses, looked desperate to escape the task.
But Keldric deliberately avoided his gaze.
Keldric might have been the one who made the corpses, but someone still had to dispose of them while he was busy.
Malcolm's face fell immediately, and he trudged away to carry more firewood.
Keldric walked on.
When he entered the manor house, several servants saw him and immediately lowered their eyes.
A moderate degree of intimidation wasn't a bad thing, but if they couldn't even meet his eyes, that was a problem.
Keldric caught hold of a passing servant. The servant's face went a little pale.
"You there. Do you have something I can use to wipe off the blood?"
"B-blood? Well, if this will do..."
Keldric accepted what looked like a dishcloth and first wiped the blood from the sword resting on his shoulder.
The blood on the blade had frozen after being exposed to the cold all night.
Keldric scrubbed hard with the cloth, but his body heat thawed the blood slightly and made it smear stickily into the fabric.
'Damn.'
The result was worse than if he hadn't bothered at all, and Keldric's expression soured.
In the end, Keldric wiped away whatever blood would come off and slung the sword back over his shoulder.
He was leaving this house in a few days anyway—he saw no need to care about anyone else's gaze.
Still looking bloodstained and menacing, Keldric continued on and soon reached the manor's back courtyard.
Not many people had gathered there.
Lady Bellaf and Hilmer stood there with troubled expressions. Father Martin had his head bowed, Mariam was crying for some reason, and Yakov lay on the ground.
'Yakov?'
Keldric's mind snapped into focus. He strode forward, his eyes trembling.
"Brother."
"Ah, Keldric. You've come."
"What happened...? Why is Yakov lying there?"
"Well..."
Hilmer trailed off.
Keldric stared blankly at Hilmer for a moment, then looked toward Yakov.
Mariam stood beside him, sniffling, while Yakov's youngest son and eldest daughter tried to comfort her.
As if spellbound, Keldric approached.
Yakov's children, belatedly noticing Keldric, parted like the Red Sea.
Yakov lay on a piece of rough burlap with his eyes peacefully closed.
As though he were dead.
"..."
Keldric's eyes rested on Yakov's face, then slowly traveled downward.
His gaze stopped on Yakov's abdomen, which was faintly stained red.
The bleeding had stopped long ago, but the dark-red linen appeared to have absorbed a considerable amount of blood.
"The wound was in a bad place."
Hilmer approached Keldric and spoke. Wordlessly, Keldric took hold of Yakov's hand.
The hand held no warmth. It was cold, and the skin was tough rather than soft.
A strange feeling came over Keldric.
Keldric hadn't felt much when he'd watched his father, Sir Volfen, die.
But things were different with Yakov lying cold before him.
It wasn't that he felt nothing—it was that thought itself had simply vanished.
His mind was completely blank. Keldric looked at Yakov's face again.
Yakov's expression was peaceful.
"Yakov was asking for you, Keldric. In his final moments..."
Hilmer spoke with a sorrowful expression. Sir Volfen had acted as a father to Hilmer, but he had never done the same for Keldric.
Yakov had been the man who filled that role for Keldric.
Still holding Yakov's hand, Keldric turned the wrinkled hand over.
A faint smear of blood had dried on Yakov's palm.
Keldric rubbed hard at Yakov's bloodstained palm with his fingers.
The blood would not come away. It had seeped into the creases of Yakov's skin and only smeared more thickly when rubbed.
The same was true of the blood on Keldric's sword.
Keldric slowly released Yakov's hand, the blood still stuck to it.
He remained standing there for a long while.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
Yakov was buried in a sunny corner of the churchyard.
Because the manor house was still in chaos, the funeral was held as a brief, simple ceremony.
Father Martin began the funeral Mass early in the morning. The villagers must have wondered what on earth was happening.
Keldric watched Mariam cling to Yakov's cold body and weep bitterly. The sight did not sit well with him at all.
His murderous intent toward Fritz, Joseph, and the five surviving mercenaries surged like boiling water, then turned cold in an instant.
His anger itself had not subsided. If anything, it had sharpened into something even more threatening.
To witness the deaths of Fritz, Joseph, and the mercenaries, Keldric would have to wait until Baron Yaven arrived.
Baron Yaven would not move until the snowstorm ended.
But Keldric intended to leave the estate as soon as the blizzard ended.
To remain long enough to watch Fritz and Joseph die, he would have to wait well beyond the end of the blizzard.
Keldric could not delay his departure. Yakov's final wish held his fury in check.
From what he had been told, Yakov had wanted Keldric to leave the fief on schedule.
Yakov had known.
His own death might have set Keldric ablaze with vengeance.
There had been no time to build a coffin, so Yakov's body was hastily wrapped in hemp cloth and covered over with earth.
Keldric watched with a dark, subdued gaze.
Keldric would leave the estate as planned.
It was Keldric, and no one else, who had decided that.
After the brief funeral, Keldric returned to the manor house and was immediately summoned by Hilmer.
Hilmer and Lady Bellaf were seated at the table in the hall.
Keldric bowed his head slightly in greeting. Hilmer acknowledged him and spoke cautiously.
"As I said before, Baron Yaven plans to visit soon."
Even as he spoke, Hilmer kept watching Keldric's reaction.
Bringing up official matters immediately after the funeral made Hilmer deeply uncomfortable.
Keldric, the one who ought to have been most troubled, said nothing. His expression looked no different from usual.
Yet the atmosphere around Keldric told a different story.
The aura Keldric gave off was no joke. It felt as though he might beat anyone who irritated him to death.
And Keldric actually had the strength to do it.
That forced Hilmer to weigh every word carefully before speaking.
It was strange for the head of the house to be watching the mood of his youngest half-brother, but that was how things stood.
"Father left the headship to me. It seems Baron Yaven plans to visit the hunting grounds in the forest, partly to meet me as the new head of the house."
It was more accurate to say the latter was the real reason.
House Bellaf might be Baron Yaven's vassal, but the baron had no reason to come all the way there merely to meet Hilmer.
If anything, Hilmer would be the one to visit Baron Yaven's castle.
A visit to the hunting grounds, however, changed matters.
A hunting ground was the exclusive preserve of nobles, a luxury that demonstrated a house's prestige and power.
Baron Yaven, renowned for his wealth, possessed several more hunting grounds of his own.
Baron Yaven's visit to Carlton Village would be his first in many years.
There had to be a reason for his sudden appearance in a place he had not visited for years.
"According to the letter, Baron Yaven will not be coming alone. There will be one other guest."
"Who is it?"
Keldric, who had remained silent until then, asked the question. Hilmer met his gaze.
"Sir Werner of House Henzer. He is better known by the epithet 'Crow.'"
Hilmer watched for Keldric's reaction, but Keldric was already too preoccupied to show much interest.
'Who was that?'
House Henzer or whatever—Keldric didn't recognize the name.
Having spent his entire life in the backwater of Carlton Village, Keldric knew only Baron Yaven and a handful of the most prominent nobles.
Even those were few. The great houses he did know were not merely 'only a spy wouldn't know them' famous, but 'you weren't human if you didn't know them' famous.
Hilmer gave Keldric a slightly exasperated look.
"Fine, you might not know him. House Henzer is an ancient and distinguished family. Its members have served as court knights to House Bogenberg for generations."
"You mean House Bogenberg?"
"Yes. You certainly know that lord, don't you? I mean Lord Bogenberg."
This time, Keldric recognized the name.
Johann von Bogenberg, Count of Bogenberg.
He was a high-ranking noble who ruled the Bogenberg region, which stretched from the empire's center into the north.
Keldric had also heard of the County of Bogenberg.
It was a wealthy domain along the Ronaun River, which flowed into the North Sea, with a broad grain belt extending south of the river.
Keldric might have been ignorant of noble society, but even he knew the Count of Bogenberg was an important man.
And the guest coming to Carlton was a court knight serving such a powerful lord?
"What is his reason for coming here?"
"I don't know either. Baron Yaven and Lord Bogenberg have been especially close for many years, so it's probably connected to that."
"Hm."
"In any case, once Baron Yaven arrives, we can decide what to do with Fritz, Joseph, and those mercenary vermin."
Finishing his words, Hilmer turned his gaze to Lady Bellaf. Her expression was far from good.
She had every reason to look that way. Too many calamities had struck her at once.
Lady Bellaf was enduring the most grueling time of her life.
It had been only a few days since she lost her beloved husband, and last night base mercenaries had suddenly stormed the manor house.
Yakov, a loyal servant of the family, had died in the upheaval. Meanwhile, her second son had been reduced to a half-crippled wreck overnight and locked in the cellar.
Of course, the one who had done that to Fritz was Keldric.
But Lady Bellaf could not resent Keldric for it.
Because, in the end, it was Fritz who had brought things to this pass.
"It's a little... hard."
After enduring so much turmoil in such a short time, Lady Bellaf spoke with difficulty.
Hilmer and Keldric looked at her with growing sympathy.
"All the bodies in the front yard have been burned. We could not leave them there until Baron Yaven arrived..."
The total number of corpses was ten.
In Carlton Village, which had barely a hundred residents, fatalities on this scale were an extraordinary occurrence.
"Father Martin has had a difficult time of it. He will probably do nothing but pray for the next several days, so both of you should keep that in mind."
Lady Bellaf went on to list one miscellaneous problem after another.
There were so many that it was hard to believe they had all arisen in a single night.
"We should use this opportunity to repair the charcoal shed."
"Give a few silver coins to the servants who cleared the bodies. They seem to be taking it rather hard."
"No, wait. Hold on."
In the middle of the grave discussion, Keldric waved a hand and interrupted.
"So, what has become of Joseph?"
"You mean Joseph?"
Keldric had not seen Joseph's face—or even his shadow—since handing him over to Hilmer.
Moreover, Joseph was as good as responsible for Yakov's death.
Fritz had directly harmed Yakov, while Joseph had urged him on from behind the scenes.
"Joseph and the mercenaries are locked in the cellar with Fritz. We'll have to keep them alive until Baron Yaven arrives."
Upon hearing Hilmer's reply, Keldric let out a sigh of relief.
Joseph, Fritz, and the mercenaries had to be kept alive. At least until Baron Yaven arrived.
There was no need to seethe over not killing them immediately. Keldric had beaten them so badly that they were barely clinging to life.
Being alive hurt them more.
Hilmer added that Fritz's condition was especially severe.
Apparently, only his two legs were still intact.
"So, the reason Joseph took part in this business..."
"Money. That damned peddler—lowborn, and his conduct stinks just as badly."
Keldric nodded without realizing it. In the end, the problem had been money.
"Anyway, since we are talking about Joseph, it seems the situation is becoming rather complicated."
Hilmer frowned. His worried voice carried an undercurrent of tension.
"Baron Gofrit, of all people... I don't think this is something we can handle ourselves. Baron Yaven should decide how to deal with it."
This was because of what Keldric had told him.
The previous night, Keldric had learned something impossible to ignore while slaughtering the cavalrymen.
Ansen Schultheis, Baron Gofrit, had ordered the night raid.
If that was true, it was a dishonorable act and deserved to be condemned.
But House Bellaf was far too insignificant to accuse him openly.
Since House Bellaf was Baron Yaven's vassal, it would be better for Baron Yaven to step in.
"Keldric. What will you do?"
Hilmer asked the question abruptly. Keldric looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Even if Baron Yaven comes as quickly as possible, it will take at least two weeks. Weren't you planning to leave the estate?"
Keldric's answer was already settled.
"I'll leave as planned."
"...I see."
Hilmer smacked his lips in disappointment.
In truth, he had inwardly hoped that Keldric would stay a little longer.
He had seen Keldric's martial prowess with his own eyes.
With Baron Gofrit apparently making a move, having Keldric remain with the family even a little longer would have been more reassuring than anything else.
But precisely because Hilmer had witnessed Keldric's strength, he could not ask him to stay.
"I will ask Baron Yaven to lend us troops against any further intruders. Do not worry too much."
"Understood."
The small family council ended there.
After Hilmer and Lady Bellaf left, Keldric remained alone and quietly considered his next steps.
The time remaining was roughly ten days.
From then on, he had to begin preparing in earnest to leave the estate.