VIII. A Knight Craves Battle (1)
VIII. A Knight Craves Battle (1)
If there were a hundred people in the world, perhaps thirty of them would be happy.
The other seventy would not all be miserable. Ten or twenty would simply accept life as it came.
Keldric belonged to that group.
"Damn it... These worthless bastards keep crawling out of the woodwork."
"Move faster. Not that there is anything worth carrying."
The Iron Claw Mercenary Company grumbled as they hauled away the bandits' corpses. Keldric watched without much feeling.
Meeting bandits once on the way from Bogenberg to Spitzenberg and again on the return journey was exceptionally bad luck.
The Empire might be in turmoil from territorial wars and other conflicts, but meeting bandits twice on the same road was still unusual.
They posed little threat to Keldric.
Perhaps fighting the monster in Spitzenberg had changed his standards, because the bandits who appeared near sunset made the battle feel anticlimactic.
"Their equipment is pathetic."
"These appear to be genuine bandits this time."
As Radomar said, these bandits differed from the group they had encountered on the way out.
The first group had roots as mercenaries and carried decent equipment.
This group wore assorted rags and carried clubs or rusty knives fit for a butcher's shop. They were a sorry sight.
The mercenaries had been attacked while preparing supper, so their complaints were understandable.
Poor equipment or not, a club could still split a skull and a knife could still carve away flesh.
After risking their lives, finding nothing worth looting from the dead was a truly shitty outcome.
There was never any profit in fighting men who had nothing to lose. That was simple wisdom.
Keldric handed Arno the longsword he had used to cut down more than a dozen bandits.
Arno strained under the meteoric-iron sword, which was far heavier than Keldric's old blade.
Keldric's former longsword had spent most of its time hanging behind Boreas's saddle. He had come to favor the meteoric-iron blade, which barely lost its edge.
'If I gave the old one to Arno...'
Keldric pictured Arno's build and imagined the boy holding his old longsword, then shook his head.
Perhaps poor nutrition was partly to blame, but Arno was still too small to wield a longsword.
Keldric had been much larger at fourteen, but Arno was small even setting that comparison aside.
Fourteen was an important age for growth. He needed plenty of food and sleep.
For now, the falchion purchased in Bogenberg would be enough.
While Keldric stared absently at the bubbling barley porridge, Alisa came over and sat beside him.
"Sir Keldric."
"Alisa. Is something the matter?"
"No, I just... thought you looked lonely eating by yourself."
Alisa blew on a spoonful of thin barley porridge and ate it. The tiny grimace she made at its stale smell looked rather pathetic.
Keldric filled his wooden bowl as well, warmth seeping into his hands.
'Killing people and then calmly eating dinner...'
The absurdity drew a hollow laugh from him, but he continued forcing the tasteless porridge down.
This truly was a strange world, one where news of death was treated as casually as someone saying, 'Yesterday I ate this or that—'
The bandits they had just killed were not even regarded as people, but as insects or something close to them.
The Iron Claw mercenaries stripped the corpses enthusiastically without the slightest guilt.
But the world had always been absurd. If you did not kill, you died. That was true for a common bandit and an armored knight alike.
What if a bandit somehow drove a rusty dagger through Keldric's visor? What if one ignored Keldric and charged Alisa with suicidal desperation?
It was unlikely, but no one knew what the world might bring.
The point was that Keldric would soon have to choose his own path.
Until now, he had lived at the mercy of others. When told to do one thing, he did it; when told to do another, he obeyed.
He could no longer ignore the ambition whispering inside him. He wanted to build something of his own and seize something greater.
That was not impossible. Keldric believed he could accomplish anything on his own.
He was human, after all. He could not be entirely free of ambition.
"Ah, the stars..."
Keldric looked up from his barley porridge at Alisa's words.
Something vast enough to draw a quiet gasp filled the sky.
The night sky was a wondrous stage studded with glittering stars. A meteor drew a graceful line across it, trailing a long tail.
Then another fell, followed by two, three, and ever more, tracing elegant curves across the night like a canvas.
Alisa tore another scrap of parchment and murmured to herself while Keldric stared blankly at the stars' distant home.
He could not say whether he would ever rise that high.
But he had the will to try, and that was enough.
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The road back to Bogenberg was easier than the journey out.
All the snow they had seen on the way to Spitzenberg had melted. Keldric had worried the road would become a quagmire, but it was not that bad.
The half-thawed road had mixed with the soil into manageable slush and posed little danger.
Thin ice would have been another matter, but this land bordering the North still saw frequent cold winds even in mid-spring.
After leaving the previous night's bandits behind and traveling for some time, Bogenberg's walls appeared in the distance like a sight from long ago.
"Sir Keldric, you have worked hard."
"You did well too, Radomar, as did the mercenaries under you."
Keldric looked over the Iron Claw Mercenary Company, which had fulfilled its assignment admirably.
They had followed his orders even after the situation moved beyond the commission they originally accepted.
Baron Spitzenberg's generous silver had certainly helped, but plenty of people would still refuse dangerous work no matter how much they were paid.
As with Jorgen in Schaffendorf, brief connections like these intertwined to shape a life. Keldric had no reason to dismiss them because they were mercenaries.
Keldric flexed his body as the stiffness gradually faded and urged Boreas forward.
Bogenberg's gate had been open since early morning and was crowded with peddlers, travelers, minstrels, mercenaries, and others seeking entry.
They passed the crowd and cleared the gate quickly. The inner castle was only a short ride away.
Many people in Bogenberg recognized Keldric, including the gate guards.
The tournament's excitement had nearly faded, but Keldric's reputation as its undefeated champion remained strong.
Before long, the rumors would reach Spitzenberg and then Bellam farther north. Hilmer in Carlton Village might already have heard stories about Keldric.
No one in Bogenberg had yet heard that he had slain a monster in Spitzenberg, but Keldric was satisfied. Greater fame could only benefit him.
"We will part ways here. It has been an honor to serve you."
"Not at all. I was glad to travel with such fine mercenaries."
The Iron Claw Mercenary Company did not remain with him for long after entering the city.
Without knowledge of the deeper circumstances, they would have regarded the journey as an ordinary commission.
Keldric was parting with companions again, but this time Alisa, Arno, and Helga remained with him.
"Let's go."
"Yes."
After riding Boreas a little farther, they reached Bogenberg's inner castle.
Keldric left his weapons and horse with the gate guards and surveyed the familiar courtyard.
The scattered patches of snow had melted completely.
The true thaw was approaching.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
"Baron Spitzenberg keeps his word. You have done well, Sir Keldric."
Count Bogenberg read the reply Keldric delivered, smiled with satisfaction, and praised his achievement.
Keldric had accomplished more than merely securing Baron Spitzenberg's cooperation.
Slaying the monster had raised Keldric's reputation, but because he had acted in Count Bogenberg's name, it benefited the count as well.
People could say that the monster would never have been slain if Count Bogenberg had not sent Keldric to Spitzenberg.
Keldric had no reason to dispute that. It was true.
"Sir Keldric."
"Burggraf Kuno. It has been a while."
Burggraf Kuno handed Keldric a small leather pouch.
Keldric glanced around, then opened it slightly.
Gold gleamed inside. Several silver coins lay beneath, but the gold pieces on top drew his eye.
"This is the reward you rightly deserve, Sir Keldric. Please put it to good use."
"Thank you, Count Bogenberg."
Even a quick count showed seven or eight gold coins. The corner of Keldric's mouth twitched.
He had been feeling the sting after unexpectedly spending a great deal of money in Spitzenberg.
"What did the reply say?"
Keldric tucked the purse inside his clothes before asking. Money was money, but the matter at hand came first.
"He wants to cooperate with me."
"What did he demand in return?"
Keldric knew nothing about the contents of Baron Spitzenberg's reply.
He had simply carried it back, trusting that the baron would agree to cooperate.
Opening a letter addressed to Count Bogenberg would have violated every rule of propriety.
Baron Spitzenberg could theoretically have promised cooperation aloud while refusing in writing, but such matters relied on mutual trust backed by a noble's honor and reputation.
Doing so would have branded Baron Spitzenberg a complete son of a bitch, a disgrace he could scarcely endure.
"He wants half the copper mine's extraction rights, a monopoly on merchant traffic to Baron Yaven during the territorial war, and troops to help defend Spitzenberg."
The terms were reasonable.
Ownership of the copper mine had always been ambiguous, while Baron Yaven—whose lands would likely see the fiercest fighting—could trade easily with Spitzenberg on his southwestern border.
Those goods would mostly be weapons and armor, allowing Baron Spitzenberg to make a tidy profit.
Count Bogenberg could handle the troops. Keldric nevertheless refrained from offering an opinion too quickly.
"There are several other matters we will have to discuss. In any case, you have done well, Sir Keldric."
"Thank you for respecting my honor."
"Hmm. Then..."
Resolve filled Count Bogenberg's eyes.
He would probably grant Baron Spitzenberg's requests. Once they established a firm alliance, there would be no reason to delay any longer.
The chance to settle his deep conflict and longstanding grudge against Count Rasau had finally arrived.
"Burggraf Kuno, summon the council."
"At once."
In short, war was beginning.
The mood grew heavy as Count Bogenberg addressed Keldric.
"Sir Keldric, I will summon you again soon. You must be tired, so rest for today."
"Understood."
Keldric left the hall and steeled himself.
Battle could no longer be avoided, and there was no turning back.
The flames of territorial war would probably begin in Yaven, and Keldric would have to leap into them.
He was already prepared to enter the battlefield.