V. O, Glory of the Tournament! (7)
V. O, Glory of the Tournament! (7)
The market of Bogenberg was full of things to see.
On one side of the market, acrobats and jesters performed for coin; minstrels strummed unfamiliar instruments and hummed songs; and merchants sold wooden toy swords to children ahead of the tournament.
Bellam was also a fairly large city with no shortage of sights, but compared to Bogenberg, it fell a good bit short.
Keldric slowly guided Boreas along, drinking in the varied spectacles everywhere.
Now and then, merchants from the Republic sold goods brought from the far-off lands of the heathens. They mostly dealt in luxuries and spices: dates, gems, coral, and the like.
It was rare for heathen merchants to come all the way into the Empire and sell their wares in person.
With the Holy Land Reconquest Campaign already botched several times over, there were no bold heathen merchants selling goods while dressed in exotic attire that loudly proclaimed them heathens.
Because of that, the goods brought in from those parts were mostly resold for profit by Republic merchants who traded as far as the far side of the sea.
They were what you might call middleman merchants.
After a long while of gazing at their wares with great fascination, Keldric gathered his attention and guided Boreas on again.
Sightseeing was well and good, but he felt more at ease once he had finished what he needed to do first.
Keldric caught a passing merchant who happened to be carrying a pack on his back.
"You there."
"Ah, yes! Sir Knight! How may I help you?"
"Is there a decent smithy in this city where I can buy weapons or armor?"
The merchant was a little startled but didn't seem cowed.
Even if the majority of knights were unreasonable bastards with foul personalities, they weren't so thoughtless as to cause an outright ruckus in the city where the Count of Bogenberg resided.
Also, judging by the merchant's manner, the fact that he wasn't overly worried about knightly abuse of power meant the Count of Bogenberg paid quite a lot of attention to his domain.
Wicked lords with no interest in their fief who only sucked money out of it didn't particularly care whether some random merchant got beaten up by a knight or whatever. Plenty of those wretches were scattered all across the Empire.
"You mean a smithy? Over there—if you follow the main road and turn left, you'll find Artisan Street."
"Oh. You mean that road over there."
"Yes. Kurt's Forge at the corner is not a bad place at all. It might fall short for a Sir Knight's use, but it's a place that sells decent goods at a decent price."
"Thank you. God's blessing upon you."
"Ah, the honor is mine. Farewell."
Keldric nodded with satisfaction.
Now he knew the location of Artisan Street, and in addition, he knew a smithy that the merchants rated well.
'That saved me the trouble of hunting one down.'
Keldric had some bad memories involving a smithy and Artisan Street in Bellam, but in Bogenberg, he was off to a good start.
The sky was still bright and clear.
With the northern blizzards having stopped as well, the weather couldn't be better for the tournament to begin in a few days.
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"I dunno what you want, I told you we don't have it!"
"I'm asking you why the hell not! You son of a bitch, you took the money and now you're shutting your mouth?"
In front of the sign bearing the straightforward name 'Kurt's Forge,' Keldric, having dismounted from Boreas, opened his eyes a little wide at the commotion coming from inside the smithy.
"How many times do I have to say I definitely handed the goods over back then before you get it! You scoundrels!"
"This bastard's got a hole for a mouth, says any damned thing he wants."
"Hey, old man. You ought to speak properly. We didn't get the goods, but we've got you one-sidedly claiming you handed them over."
A small ruckus was underway inside the smithy. Every person passing by hurried on their way with a fed-up expression.
Keldric lingered in front of the smithy with an uneasy look. He was torn between turning his steps and leaving, or just going in and looking at the goods before leaving.
The ruckus that had broken out on Bellam's Artisan Street had undeniably had Keldric as the victim. So Keldric had been able to hold his head high there.
But here, Keldric could not lay hands on someone or get involved without any cause.
Moreover, the ruckus going on inside the smithy had nothing whatsoever to do with Keldric.
He was in the position of a perfect third party.
"You daylight-robber bastards! I even cut you a little deal on the price, and you repay the kindness by acting like this!"
"Now this fellow is funny. When did you ever cut us a deal? You were trying to rip us off and we brought it down to the normal price."
"Hey, forget it. Let's just grab anything from this side and go."
"Wha—wait! No!"
In the end, after deliberating, Keldric took his hand off the door handle.
With the great event of the Bogenberg Tournament just ahead, he was none too keen on needlessly scratching at a scab.
There was also the matter of the Count of Bogenberg's honor at stake.
If unsavory talk spread in the city hosting the tournament, the Count's honor would be diminished, and an enraged Count of Bogenberg might censure Keldric or even expel him from the tournament.
Just as Keldric was about to turn away, the closed smithy door flew open.
"Huh?"
"Wh-what the."
Keldric looked steadily at the two men looking up at him.
He didn't have any particular thought in mind when he looked; it was more with the intention of checking out just what kind of men were raising a ruckus inside the smithy.
But it seemed Keldric was the only one who thought that way.
Keldric hesitated for a moment and was about to move aside for them when one of the men, overheated, tried to roughly shove Keldric.
"Get out of the way and beat it!"
The unfortunate thing was that Keldric was not of a build that would be pushed back just like that by such a paltry shove.
'Would you look at these guys.'
Even Keldric was not some great personage who would embrace everyone like a pushover or deal with them with love.
He was a man of considerably upstanding character for a knight of this period, but those upstanding traits did not extend to scoundrels who committed discourtesy.
"Uh, uuhh..."
While the nameless man who tried to shove Keldric was thrown off by Keldric not budging an inch, a large hand brutally seized the man by the scruff of the neck.
Lifted right up into the air, the man's eyes bulged as if they would pop out.
The strength was one thing, but once he was hoisted up, his feet dangled a long way off the ground—the difference in height was no joke.
"Who are you people."
"Gahk! Y-your hand, let..."
"You there. You answer."
"Ah, well, that's..."
The other man who had been about to come out of the smithy turned pale.
The strength and build to lift a grown man into the air as easily as handling a child, and the attire Keldric was wearing, made it plain at a glance that he was no mere farmhand.
'A-a knight?'
They hated to imagine it, but the two men had clearly crossed a knight. They realized that fact far too late.
This wasn't just stepping in dog shit on the road. It was the equivalent of throwing empty-handed bravado in front of an armed robber.
And if the other party was a knight, it was even worse than a robber.
A robber at least allowed you some nominal protection within the bounds of the law, but run your mouth at a knight and you could die without even getting to scream.
"You aren't answering."
"Kehgk!"
When the desired answer didn't come, Keldric twisted the hand gripping the man's collar one more turn, tightening around the throat harder.
The man's face slowly turning blue was a sight to behold.
Seeing that, the other man went into a panic and threw himself to his knees.
The offense toward the knight was already done; for now, prostrating himself flat and begging for forgiveness was the best move.
"We're sorry! Honored Sir Knight! If you would but in your immense magnanimity forgive our discourtesy—."
"You've insulted my honor. Did I look like a man who can be insulted by a worthless wretch like this?"
"Th-that isn't it."
"Reveal your identities first. Are you mercenaries? Or do you have a lord you serve?"
At Keldric's question, the expression of the man who had gone pale brightened slightly.
It was a look as though he'd found a lifeline.
"Ah, that's right! The noble master we serve is Sir Tolle of the honorable House Lombard! While carrying out our lord Sir Tolle's orders, we were unavoidably..."
"Being loyal and being rude are separate things. I asked about your master. I haven't the slightest curiosity about the circumstances that led you to behave in this manner."
"..."
The man shut his mouth. There wasn't a word of Keldric's that was wrong.
It was Sir Tolle's attendants who had first committed discourtesy toward Keldric, and name-dropping Sir Tolle had no effect at all on Keldric, who didn't even know who he was.
"You said Sir Tolle ordered this?"
"Y-yes! That's correct! That smith dared try to insult Sir Tolle's honor, so we, as his attendants, could not simply stand by! If it weren't for getting heated over that fellow, you would never have been insulted, Sir!"
"What nonsense—! No, it's not! Sir Knight! You mustn't listen to this pathetic wretch's words!"
The smith who had overheard the attendant's story came darting out in a fluster. Only then could Keldric see the smith's face.
'A dwarf?'
A bushy beard, a short stature, and a large hooked nose.
It was the typical appearance of a dwarf, which Keldric had never seen before.
Keldric's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight.
Even a random passing merchant had recommended the smithy as having decent quality, and if the smith was a dwarf, it definitely made sense.
Dwarves were exceedingly rare in the north.
Being cooped up in the backwater village of Carlton was part of the reason, but to begin with, dwarves didn't live well in the north, which was just cold and barren.
After a moment of wonder at meeting a dwarf for the first time, Keldric revised his thinking and let go of the attendant's collar, which he had been holding up.
Only then did the released attendant fall to the ground coughing and gasping.
The other attendant watched the scene with trembling eyes.
"Even if that smith insulted Sir Tolle, that doesn't mean you wretches have the right to insult me. Don't you agree?"
"W-well, that is..."
"If I'm right, then you'll have to pay the proper price for insulting my honor."
Keldric's fist clenched up tight and solid.
Before the attendant, who had gone pale at the sight, could say anything, Keldric's fist drove into the attendant's solar plexus.
"Ghk!"
"Should Sir Tolle happen to ask about this matter, you'd best tell him every detail, including how you insulted my honor."
"Urrrgh...!"
"If you understand, then beat it."
Naturally, attendants who'd just been struck in the solar plexus and strangled could hardly walk away on their own two feet.
Keldric grabbed the collars of both and threw them carelessly onto the roadside.
Having rolled in the dirt, the two attendants couldn't come to their senses at all.
Of course, that was none of Keldric's concern.
"You there."
"Ah, yes! Sir Knight! Truly, thank you! The ruffian behavior of those scoundrels—I can't tell you how much I suffered..."
"Mhm. More than that, I'd like to see your goods."
"Ah! Please, come right in!"
Meanwhile, the dwarf smith who had received the unexpected help beamed with a bright expression and led Keldric inside.
As if deeply grateful for Keldric stepping in, he smiled ceaselessly and treated Keldric with a favorable attitude.
As the saying goes, good is good; Keldric had inadvertently ended up dealing with the scoundrels who were tormenting the dwarf smith.
'Good.'
With the dwarf smith named Kurt treating him favorably, Keldric too felt far from displeased.
It amounted to having beaten up Sir Tolle's attendants, but since the other side had crossed Keldric first, Keldric had nothing to feel cowed about.
Unless something unusual happened, Keldric reckoned everything would be uneventful.
"I'll give you a good deal on the price! Having received your favor, Sir, I can't possibly keep my mouth shut and act stingy!"
"Oh. Really?"
Above all, there was no one in the world who disliked having the price cut down.
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"Who is the scoundrel who dared beat my loyal attendants!"
And the unusual thing happened sooner than expected.
Keldric looked toward the inn entrance with an unimpressed expression.
A rough-looking fellow in plain chain mail and a surcoat was shouting at the top of his lungs.
Hearing that Kurt would personally deliver the weapons, Keldric had told him the location of the inn, and it seemed the attendants who had gone to harass Kurt yet again had forced it out of him.
"The knight who insulted my house, come forward! If you truly have honor, accept a lawful duel!"
Keldric let out a sigh. The mace that had been clanking at his waist was grasped in his hand.
He'd meant to stay quiet until the tournament, but at this rate, he'd end up with neither porridge nor rice.