VI. The Enemy Draws Nearer (1)
VI. The Enemy Draws Nearer (1)
If a well-forged weapon was half a knight, the other half was a sturdy warhorse of fine blood.
Give one to an ignorant serf and it would end up pulling a plow, but to a knight, a warhorse ranked only slightly below his own life.
Warhorses also had their classes. The finest and most suitable for battle were known as destriers.
Recognition as a destrier required an exceptional pedigree.
Both sire and dam had to possess unusual traits, and the finest warhorses were born when the best bloodlines combined and passed down only their strengths.
By that measure, the black horse Keldric had received for winning the Bogenberg Tournament possessed an extraordinary pedigree.
"His Excellency treasures this bloodline. Even Count Bogenberg owns only three of them."
"I can only be grateful that he gave me such a precious horse."
"Haha... Archbishop Marchen personally blessed Aveline, giving the horse exceptional stamina. Even if you ride hard, Sir Keldric, Aveline will keep up admirably."
"Oh..."
Keldric nodded as he listened to the stablemaster Count Bogenberg had sent.
He had little idea how impressive any of this truly was, but he was willing to listen.
"Aveline descends from an Andallosan warhorse crossed with Firenza stock. The dam's line also carries a little desert-horse blood brought from the Holy Land, making Aveline exceptionally hardy and intelligent."
"I see. Does the horse already have a name?"
Keldric had named Boreas himself, but a warhorse with such distinguished blood usually came with a name.
After such rigorous training, it needed something its handlers could call it.
"Archbishop Marchen named the horse Aveline."
Aveline was a sacred name wishing health and peace upon the rider and the resolve to remain true to an upright will.
It was also the sort of name used in the southern republics and Papal States.
Keldric cared only that it was not a ridiculous name, and nodded in satisfaction.
"Aveline."
Aveline, a black horse with a strikingly glossy coat, turned bright, intelligent eyes toward Keldric.
Just as the stablemaster had said, Aveline was remarkably clever.
Even Boreas did not yet respond reliably to its name. Every time Keldric tugged the reins or urged the horse forward, he called the name to make it stick.
Aveline, proven by long training and fine blood, responded immediately and pushed a head toward Keldric, recognizing the new master.
'Excellent.'
Keldric had unexpectedly acquired a magnificent horse.
As it happened, he had been needing a second warhorse besides Boreas.
Aveline was an excellent warhorse, but Keldric had no intention of abandoning Boreas. Boreas might even be more suitable for ordinary travel.
He could switch to Aveline when battle began, while riding Boreas in smaller engagements and during everyday travel.
"Does Aveline have a favorite food?"
"The bloodline gives Aveline a strong stomach, so any clean roadside grass will do. For a special treat, though, the horse particularly enjoys thoroughly boiled oats and apples."
"Oats and apples... Understood. I'll remember that."
Keldric left the stablemaster with a smile.
Since Aveline was his now, he intended to ride the horse back to the castle.
"Sir Keldric."
As Keldric left the tournament grounds, Alisa approached on horseback.
Henri and Alan waited beside her.
The two immature knights gaped when they saw Aveline beneath Keldric, hurriedly dismounted, and ran over.
"Oh, ooh...!"
"Good God, look at those magnificent muscles!"
Keldric's shoulders rose with pride despite himself.
A warhorse of this quality deserved to be called a legendary steed.
Other nobles and knights passing nearby also stole glances at Aveline and murmured in admiration.
Henri and Alan's reactions might have been more animated, but they were hardly making a fuss over nothing.
"Sir Keldric! What is this beautiful creature's name?"
"Aveline. I'm told Archbishop Marchen chose the name himself."
"Ah...! Dear God!"
Henri quickly crossed himself and murmured a prayer.
While Henri prayed, Alan carefully studied the movement of Aveline's powerful muscles.
"Look at those muscles move. What strength and vigor! Aye, that is how a warhorse should look."
"Your horse is a fine one too."
"Damn it, Sir Keldric. Try not to say that to any knight but me. Most would go mad with jealousy."
"Uh... understood."
"Be especially careful around those half-witted Frankish knights. They're little better than thieves, aren't they?"
Henri, absorbed in prayer, appeared not to hear Alan.
Keldric nodded awkwardly and stroked Aveline's soft mane. Even the mane felt extraordinarily smooth; this horse truly was different.
"Did they explain the bloodline?"
"The dam was an Andallosan warhorse with some desert-horse blood, while the sire came from Firenza stock."
"An excellent pedigree. The combination is a work of art. Desert horses are especially famous for their stamina."
Alan praised the pedigree at length, and once Henri finished praying, he enthusiastically joined in.
Aveline's bloodline truly was that exceptional. It contained stock so precious that money alone could not buy it.
A horse like this would cost a fortune even if one could be found. Keldric's money was nowhere near enough, and no ordinary horse trader could have offered such an animal.
This was the sort of horse seen only in royal palaces or the courts of great nobles. The corners of Keldric's mouth kept twitching upward.
"The caparison is a work of art as well."
Henri was right. The caparison fitted across Aveline's back was of excellent quality.
It was made from costly deep-navy cloth and bore a rampant bear on either side—the unmistakable arms of House Bellaf.
Keldric had completed the necessary registration at the heraldic office before the tournament, and the caparison had been embroidered from that record.
Keldric examined it with mixed pleasure and disappointment.
It was a proper caparison, something even Boreas lacked. Receiving it was wonderful, but he did not particularly like having House Bellaf's arms stamped across it. He was still traveling under the house's name, but...
'I can change it later.'
He only needed to use it while acting under the name of House Bellaf.
If Keldric ever founded a house of his own, he could replace it then.
"Did you receive prize money as well?"
Alisa, who had been admiring Aveline almost as openly as Henri and Alan, approached and asked.
Keldric silently pointed to the saddlebag.
He tapped it, producing a bright clink that made his purse feel heavier merely to hear.
Count Bogenberg had not been stingy.
Despite already offering an exceedingly rare warhorse as the grand prize, he had also given Keldric a substantial sum of money.
Together with Keldric's winnings throughout the tournament, the champion's purse left him with a considerable fortune.
After earning so much at once, it was time to consider spending some of it.
Knighthood was an enormously expensive station.
Maintaining armor and weapons at a proper smithy cost a great deal, and warhorses had to be fed quality fodder regularly to keep them healthy.
Luxury was expected, as was generosity toward retainers, and the countless expenses of travel only made the calculation more painful.
Fortunately, Keldric was a frugal knight who avoided unnecessary luxury and indulgence.
That restraint had allowed him to save a substantial sum. Spending freely for a single day now and then would do no harm.
"Tonight, let us have a drink somewhere good."
"Excellent. There's a place I've had my eye on, with particularly fine company."
"Are Frankish knights always this debauched? Sir Keldric, keep company with a filthy bastard like him and your cock will rot off."
"Damn you! You enjoyed yourself well enough last night, and now you say that?"
"Wh-when did I ever do that? You bastard!"
Keldric sighed as the two knights began squabbling yet again, but his own excitement left him lighthearted as he urged Aveline onward.
He held Boreas's reins in one hand.
Boreas might have been wary of the newly arrived Aveline, but the horse seemed content simply because Keldric was happy.
"It is a fine day. Congratulations again, Sir Keldric."
"Thank you."
He had won the tournament, received the warhorse he happened to need, and earned a heavy purse besides...
As Alisa said, it truly was a fine day.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
"Sir Keldric."
At the sound of his name, Keldric forced his eyes open.
A glance through the window showed the sun already high. Someone stood beyond the door.
"Alisa?"
"Yes. Forgive me if I've woken you from a sound sleep. Sir Tolle wishes to see you..."
"I'll be right out."
Keldric quickly pulled himself together and dressed.
He could hardly complain about being disturbed early. Judging by the sun, calling this morning would have been shameless.
A sharp, throbbing hangover rattled his skull. Keldric's strength and stamina made him difficult to intoxicate, but the previous night's revelry had been excessive even for him.
Henri and Alan were probably incapable of getting out of bed.
Once he was more or less dressed, Keldric hurriedly opened the door. Tolle and Alisa stood outside, both looking somewhat tired.
"Sir Tolle?"
"Sir Keldric, forgive me if you were still sleeping."
"No, it doesn't matter. What happened?"
"His Excellency Count Bogenberg wishes to see you."
Count Bogenberg had summoned Keldric privately again. Struck by déjà vu, Keldric tilted his head but followed Tolle without protest.
"May Alisa come with us?"
"Forgive me, but that would be..."
"Alisa, return to your room."
"Yes. Understood."
Leaving Alisa behind made the scene almost identical to the previous summons.
Keldric felt both apprehension and anticipation.
He worried that Count Bogenberg would not have summoned him without reason, yet also hoped that another offer resembling vassalage might come with better terms.
After walking through the inner castle for some time, they reached the same room where Keldric had secretly met the count before.
Tolle's role ended there. Burggraf Kuno, who was already waiting at the door, led Keldric inside.
"Your Excellency, Sir Keldric of House Bellaf has arrived."
Count Bogenberg sat in the same place as before. The same clothes, the same seat, the same room.
Only the time and Keldric's appearance had changed. Still slightly dazed, Keldric sat in the chair Kuno offered.
Count Bogenberg spoke at once.
"Sir Keldric, I believe I was too hasty last time. I would like to apologize for that first."
"I have already put it behind me. I know Lord Bogenberg would never deliberately test my honor."
"I am grateful you see it that way."
Count Bogenberg fell silent. For a time, his gaze seemed to pierce straight through Keldric.
"Since we are discussing it... Sir Keldric, if vassalage is too burdensome, how would you feel about entering my employ?"
"You mean to hire me?"
"You are young, and binding yourself through vassalage might deny you many chances to experience the world. An old man like me can no longer live so freely."
Count Bogenberg sighed faintly. His eyes flashed for an instant as he remembered the past.
"That is why I make this offer. If being bound by vassalage is too great a burden, will you work for me for a time instead?"
"For what purpose would you hire me?"
"I will pay you properly. In return, I ask that you place your sword at my service for a while."
As was usually the case when a noble hired a knight, Count Bogenberg wanted Keldric's strength.
He wanted Keldric's sword.
But a knight's strength could be employed in several ways, such as guarding someone or exerting military pressure on a rival.
Count Bogenberg wanted the most direct use of all.
"Will you help me fight a territorial war?"
A territorial war was approaching.