VII. The Monster of Spitzenberg (1)
VII. The Monster of Spitzenberg (1)
Spitzenberg’s inner castle rose on high ground overlooking the small city below.
As Keldric climbed the road to the castle, he repeatedly marveled at the magnificent mountains beyond the gently sloping rooftops.
"Beautiful."
"When the weather is clear, this is the view you’re treated to."
Alisa rode beside him with her mouth slightly open as she watched the mountains. The white northern wind sweeping in from the far north and rolling over the range was truly magnificent.
Below the distant range, countless peaks surrounded Spitzenberg. Spring growth was beginning to emerge, making the warmer weather feel real.
'The world was this vast. How much had I still not seen?'
Keldric reflected on the weakness that had recently tempted him to settle into comfort.
The world remained vast, with countless places he could visit. When else could he see ancient civilization and beautiful nature intertwined like this?
As they continued admiring the scenery, Radomar, walking beside them like an escort, suddenly turned and spoke.
"Sir Keldric, have you heard the story of the Spitzenberg mountains?"
"A story about the mountains?"
"Aye. It’s a tale I’ve heard since childhood—frightening enough to make you piss the bed."
Radomar was from Spitzenberg. The route was not one a man could learn from only a few visits.
Count Bogenberg had been considerate to assign Keldric a mercenary who knew Spitzenberg well.
"Wolves have always been unusually common in these mountains. Do you know why?"
"I don't. What's the reason?"
"Because a demon lives here—one that tears the hearts from living children and devours them. They say it’s a huge black wolf with a serpent’s tail and wings."
Keldric had long known that wolves lived in packs led by an alpha.
The claim that the leader was a demon or monster was far more interesting. Keldric scratched his chin and nodded slowly.
"A demon, you say?"
"Some call it a demon and others a monster. What’s certain is that the wolf that has ruled these mountains for decades is anything but ordinary."
According to Radomar, when the wolves were at their worst, people had recruited professional wolf hunters and knights to kill their leader.
Hunting was the preserve of knights and nobles. Knights considered bringing back exceptional game from a hunt a great honor.
A huge wolf with a fine pelt, a stag with magnificent antlers, or a rare monstrous beast—such trophies often ended up mounted on manor walls.
A knight who hunted Spitzenberg’s legendary wolf would gain tremendous honor and glory. For a time, many had taken up the challenge.
But the hunts repeatedly failed, and the parties returned empty-handed. Knights who had expected a glorious trophy left in anger.
"A regrettable tale. The former Baron of Spitzenberg must have been deeply troubled."
"It was terrifying in the old days. But the attacks became rare more than a decade ago. Lately it’s been quiet apart from a few troublesome wolves."
Those must have been the wolves Berno had mentioned. Keldric nodded slowly.
"Were they really that bad?"
"Not now. Back then they were fucking awful— Ah, forgive me. I’m lowborn, and my mouth..."
"You should watch your language. I don’t mind, but another knight might."
"My apologies. I’ll think before I speak."
"That'll do."
The atmosphere turned awkward. Keldric cleared his throat while a slightly dejected Radomar continued in silence.
Keldric urged Aveline slowly onward, watching the inner castle draw steadily nearer.
The crest outside Spitzenberg’s inner castle showed a red wolf on a gold field. A wolf, of all things. The coincidence was striking.
The simple combination of gold and red marked House Spitzenberg as an old and distinguished line. The fortress had defended the region from foreign enemies for generations.
The north was now fully settled, with villages and communities throughout it. Long ago, before the Empire had truly become an empire, that had not been possible.
Crossing the drawbridge, Keldric glanced down into the deep ravines surrounding Spitzenberg. He could not imagine how many northern raiders had died there.
Given the additional moat surrounding even the inner castle, they had probably never breached the natural fortress.
It was a legacy of war. Spitzenberg had endured conflict after conflict and remained standing.
Other places had not been so fortunate. Keldric could already feel the flames of another war beginning to kindle.
By the time he left Spitzenberg, he did not know whether it would enter that fire beside Count Rasau or Count Bogenberg.
Keldric had come to ensure the latter.
If Spitzenberg joined Count Rasau and rashly entered the war, Keldric would not hesitate to break through this natural fortress.
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"May God’s blessing be with you. It is an honor to meet you."
"Welcome. I have been expecting you."
Baron Spitzenberg looked remarkably solid.
Not figuratively—the man himself looked solid. His muscular build was so well trained that Keldric wondered whether he was a knight.
His square jaw and well-groomed beard reinforced the impression. The baron gestured to a chair before the table.
"Please sit. The journey here must have been difficult."
"Yes. In that case..."
Keldric sat and looked around the castle hall.
It differed from the hall in Bogenberg where the banquet had been held. It was smaller and lower, but one wall opened onto the mountains beyond a railing, making the room feel spacious.
"It must seem unusual. This room served another purpose originally, but I’ve repurposed it. The view is excellent."
"Oh..."
"I move elsewhere when it gets cold. The wind from beyond the mountains is so bitter that I wouldn’t stay here."
Keldric nodded and raised the wine to his lips. It was excellent, as though his host intended to provide flawless hospitality.
"I hear you’ve brought a letter from Lord Bogenberg."
"Yes. Here it is."
Keldric reached into his clothes and handed over the letter. Baron Spitzenberg accepted it.
Silence followed while the baron read and considered Count Bogenberg’s message. Keldric sipped his wine and admired the view.
A cool breeze flowed through the room. As the letter rustled in the baron’s hands, Keldric remembered Radomar’s story about the wolf.
"Lord Spitzenberg, I’ve heard wolves have caused considerable harm in this region. How is the situation now?"
"It has improved greatly. The problem was serious in my grandfather’s time, but attacks declined sharply under my father."
The baron murmured without looking up from the letter. At least Keldric had not encountered any wolves attacking travelers.
It was easiest to regard the attacks like any other beast preying on people. Everyone knew what wolves did to their victims.
"You must produce many fine wolf pelts."
"We do. Our crest also bears a wolf—the Red Wolf that supposedly accompanied the founder of our house everywhere."
"Oh..."
"If you are interested, I’ll give you a pelt. We hunted a fine wolf recently, and adding one for Lord Bogenberg would be appropriate."
Pelts varied enormously in value. A hide with undamaged leather, beautiful color, and fine markings could cost far more than Keldric expected.
Keldric had no reason to refuse such a valuable gift.
"I’ll accept it gratefully. Lord Bogenberg will be pleased as well."
"If you mean to have it worked, do it here. Spitzenberg’s artisans are highly regarded."
Many dwarven artisans lived in Spitzenberg, and their skill naturally raised the quality of the city’s goods.
Keldric already planned to look for armor in Spitzenberg, so he nodded.
"I have read the letter. I’ll decide my position soon and send a reply."
"Please summon me when it is ready. I’ll deliver it to Lord Bogenberg."
"I would appreciate that. You have had a long journey. Will you stay for a meal?"
"Ah... Certainly."
Keldric tilted his head at the baron’s open, straightforward manner.
Count Bogenberg had explicitly instructed him to convey his position clearly. Implicit in those words was the suggestion that a certain degree of martial demonstration would also be tolerated.
Yet Baron Spitzenberg showed no obvious intention of joining Count Rasau’s faction.
Instead, he treated Keldric, Count Bogenberg’s envoy, with such normal courtesy that Keldric did not know how to respond.
But baseless suspicion was a sickness of its own. Keldric resolved to remain cautious without making it obvious.
"Eat your fill."
"...Thank you."
Naturally, the meal was frugal in observance of Lent.
'This was driving me mad.'
The thought of eating like this while staying at the castle rather than an inn killed his appetite.
Keldric forced down hard rye bread and salted vegetables.
Now that he had some time, he intended to finish the miserable meal quickly and head into the streets.
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Spitzenberg’s streets lacked the wide variety of goods he had seen in Bogenberg and Bellam.
Stone, stone, and more stone. Every building was made of it. Because the city sloped toward the inner castle at its center, steep streets were common.
"Did your talk go well?"
Alisa asked as she walked beside him. Keldric scratched his chin, struggled to formulate an answer, then spoke.
"I'm not sure."
"Did something happen?"
"Baron Spitzenberg was more accommodating than I expected. I’d heard he leaned toward Count Rasau’s faction, but perhaps not as much as I thought."
"Ah... I see."
Only Baron Spitzenberg knew his true intentions, and Keldric had no way to read his mind.
All Keldric could do was wait.
He had no reason to object. Walking Spitzenberg’s clean, scenic streets was pleasant, and Alisa did not complain.
An aqueduct rose between ravines on the far side of the city. Alisa explained that ancient dwarves had built it as well.
Keldric thought of Roman aqueducts. This one looked comparable, perhaps even more advanced.
"Their engineering was remarkable."
"It was built before the dwarves lost rune forging."
Rune forging had allowed the ancient dwarves to raise their technology without limit.
No one knew why the art had vanished. Some said arrogant dwarves had challenged God and fallen; others claimed it had simply disappeared over the centuries after the Dwarven Empire collapsed.
Keldric knew nothing about it, so he could only admire the aqueduct.
"Hm?"
While he studied the city, Keldric suddenly felt an intense gaze and whipped around.
Someone stood some distance behind them, staring. Wrapped in a filthy robe and looking like a vagrant, the figure made his skin crawl.
But the figure vanished the instant Keldric turned.
"What is it?"
"Sir Keldric?"
Keldric did not answer. The stranger had disappeared into a narrow alley between two buildings.
The alley cut through to a street beyond. Keldric watched the far end.
The stranger was gone, but one building stood clearly visible across the street.
'A church?'
It was indeed a church. Keldric hesitated, then turned away.
He had a bad feeling. The wisest course was not to involve himself.