Hyde Arrives in Fierenzo and Meets Archibold #2

There was one sermon that pastors and priests always had to deliver, yet one that the congregation hated more than any other.

The sermon on tithes and offerings.

The matter of offerings was written plainly in Scripture. It was not money paid to the church, but something offered up to God. And with that money, the church community was sustained. In other words, failing to give it was no different from stealing what belonged to God.

"So this man never paid the offering he promised."

With a soft rustle, I unrolled the scroll Archbishop Archibold had given me. The details were written out in full.

The signature was properly affixed. Legally, it looked airtight.

But this Baron Volterre had failed to honor the pledge, and as a result the Grand Cathedral's finances had suffered.

"Thanks to him, I had to pay an entrance fee just to get into the Grand Cathedral."

How infuriating was that?

The affairs of the world might look scattered and random, yet they all stood in intimate mutual communication beneath a single vast will called Providence. Therefore the anger I had felt today was, for all practical purposes, this Baron Volterre's fault—and I could not forgive it.

"Is Baron Volterre at home?"

I stepped into a modest manor house located in Fierenzo. Guards in chain mail stood watch at the gate. Even from the entrance, the garden beyond looked lavish and sprawling, and cool jets of water sprayed from a fountain.

"Cathy! That dress is gorgeous!"

"It's a new one the tailor fitted for me this time!"

Shrill, noisy laughter kept bubbling up without pause. Peeking past the guards' shoulders, I could see they were enjoying something like a banquet.

The guards looked me over from head to toe with open disdain.

"Are you a guest invited to Lady Cathy's wedding? Show us your invitation."

Ah. So today the baron's daughter was holding her wedding right here in the manor garden.

Only I had not been invited.

"I wasn't invited. I've come as the proxy of Archbishop Archibold. Baron Russe Volterre has been three years delinquent on the offering he promised."

"Delinquent? Offering? Ah, I see. I'll be sure to pass the word to the baron, so you can leave for today. We're busy right now. Can't you see the line behind you?"

I glanced back. Before I knew it, a whole crowd of people had queued up behind me. Each of them carried armfuls of mysterious fruit or flowers as gifts, and they were all staring at me with sour faces that said, I don't know what this is about, but hurry up and deal with it.

A wedding. Guests pouring in. On a day like this, someone like me coming to collect an offering was no better than a tax farmer—the kind of collaborator the Bible painted as a traitor.

So what?

You people are busy? I've got plans this evening too.

"I will speak with Baron Volterre myself. It will only take a moment—give me five minutes. I'll just step inside."

I tried to slip between the guards as smoothly as water. That was when they seized my shoulders and grew very angry indeed.

"Where do you think you're going on your own!"

"We can thrash you and throw you out! This is the private property of House Volterre!"

The grip on my shoulders was surprisingly strong. They looked ready to pull the clubs from their belts and start beating me in earnest.

I found the whole thing absurd.

"Why are you the ones getting angry? The one who should be angry is me. How dare a man who stole from Elohim's treasury brazenly demand his rights! Guests, all of you—listen!"

I had many talents, but I could proudly claim that my lung capacity was louder and more resonant than anyone's. After all, back when I operated as Rust, I had once preached to five thousand people gathered at the foot of a mountain without a microphone.

Granted, the "sermon" had been something useless like "Perfect weather for rape," but still.

"What?"

"What's going on? Is there a problem?"

My booming voice began to draw every eye. I did not let the momentum slip.

"Baron Volterre is a criminal who stole goods and never paid their price! Today, as the proxy come to collect that just payment, I will accept the guests' gifts in his stead!"

I promptly snatched up the flowers and baskets from the hands of the people lined up behind me. Naturally the guests exploded—"Who the hell do you think you are, you bastard!"—and a scuffle broke out.

"You son of a bitch! Who are you! Some beggar from nowhere! Do you even know who this man is? This is Baron Melty! By the laws of nobility, a beggar like you isn't even allowed to speak to him!"

Thud—

Among the guards the guests had brought, some shoved my shoulder hard with a fist. I sat down hard on my backside. At once a wave of laughter—wahaha—burst from the crowd.

I seized the moment.

"You dare lay hands on a man of House Agarpe? By the laws of nobility, I also stand here as proxy of Count Agarpe!"

"What?"

"Count Agarpe, you said?"

"What is he talking about?"

In this province of Durgien, there was probably no one who did not know the name of House Agarpe. Even if they were in decline, until the kingdom had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been unified they had ruled this region like kings.

"I am Hyde, son-in-law of House Agarpe! Baron Melty! Your soldier struck my shoulder and left a severe bruise—this is a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grave insult! The retribution will be paid in full!"

At my shout, a weasel-whiskered baron in a long-brimmed hat gave a violent start. He frowned, clearly conscious of the surrounding uproar, then asked me,

"Do you have anything that can prove your identity?"

"I'll show you the Agarpe travel pass."

I produced the pass I had received before leaving Agarpe territory. It was the genuine article, and if Baron Melty was any kind of noble at all, he would recognize its authenticity at once.

Baron Melty immediately began to tremble in great alarm.

"Good heavens, so you are the famous son-in-law of Count Doban. My soldier Hans failed to recognize you and committed an offense. I will punish and dismiss the man myself, so please be gracious—"

"M-my lord—"

"What are you all standing around for! Throw this insolent man out at once! How dare he lay hands on a member of a noble house! Don't just throw him out—thrash him!"

"Y-yes…!? M-my lord! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

The soldier who had struck my shoulder dropped to the ground in utter panic and pressed his forehead to the dirt. If he were beaten and driven out like this, the man's life would be finished.

But looking back on it now, the soldier's sin was not so deep. If some unknown person reached out and started pestering a noble, a soldier's proper duty was to be on guard.

"Baron Melty. It's fine. People make mistakes as they live, so I forgive him. Soldier, raise your head. I did not come here today to fight any of you."

"You would do that for us? Hans! Offer your thanks that the son-in-law of Agarpe is so generous of heart!"

"Thank you. Truly, thank you!"

After the whole commotion, I headed once more for the garden entrance. Even the faces of the soldiers who had tried to drive me off earlier now held a touch of awkwardness.

"Well? Would any of you care to lay hands on me as well?"

Should I just high-pass right through them like a breeze…?

That was when it happened.

"Escort the guest inside!"

From within the garden, a heavyset man approached us. A sable-fur scarf was wrapped around his neck—didn't he find that hot in the middle of summer?

"Are you Baron Russe Volterre?"

"I am. And you must be that Hyde. Rumors about you are flying all over Durgien. Everyone wonders what lucky man managed to marry the young lady of Agarpe. Come inside!"

Baron Russe Volterre's manor was dazzlingly splendid and luxurious. Chandeliers clung to the ceilings, murals painted by artists covered every wall, and porcelain pieces whose prices I could not even guess stood in every corner, decorating the corridors.

There were plenty of soldiers and knights as well. Just from what I saw, twenty soldiers and three knights.

According to the kingdom's five ranks of nobility—duke, marquis, count, viscount, baron—a baron sat at the very bottom of the aristocratic order, did he not? Of course political and economic circumstances could rearrange that hierarchy, but Baron Volterre was clearly very rich and carried himself with authority.

"Compared to the manor of House Agarpe, this place is so shabby that I feel a little embarrassed to receive Lord Hyde here."

Baron Russe. His words pretended humility, yet they were thick with arrogant pride. After all, this manor was better than Agarpe's.

The baron seated himself on a balcony that looked out over the garden banquet.

"So then, Lord Hyde—have you come from House Agarpe to celebrate my daughter Cathy's wedding? I am truly honored."

"No. I did not come here as a representative of Agarpe. The one who sent me is Archbishop Archibold. I stand here as a proxy of the Church."

"Pardon? How does the son-in-law of House Agarpe come to this place as the proxy of His Excellency Archbishop Archibold?"

Baron Russe seemed unable to make sense of it. After all, House Agarpe and House Archibold were mortal enemies.

"Ever since the founding of the Allied Kingdom, House Archibold and House Agarpe have fought for more than five hundred years in this Durgien. Our House Volterre knows that well. What an amusing turn of events."

He looked me up and down as if he truly found it entertaining. When his brown hair swayed like seaweed, I answered at my leisure.

"Where is there such a thing as an eternal enemy? We are all equal brothers and sisters under the Lord. And House Volterre, which served as a banner house of Agarpe for three hundred years, is now loyal to the Church, is it not?"

"…Well, now, that is—"

Russe Volterre looked thoroughly flustered. He had never expected me to speak so bluntly of politics.

During my stay at Agarpe I had read stacks of history books and volumes on the noble houses. On nights when there was no sex, time had been plentiful.

According to the histories I had read, Agarpe had been a great house of Durgien and had commanded many noble families as banner houses. Volterre had been one of them—until the war between the Church and the royal house some twenty years ago had rewritten the balance of power beyond recognition.

"When House Agarpe stood with the Unizer royal house to the very end, House Volterre was the first to betray them and become a lackey of the Church, was it not?"

"That—that was because there was no justice in the royal house…! The mad king tried to kill every human being…! Opposing the royal house was the proper duty of a noble…!"

In that fashion the royalist nobles had peeled away from the front one by one or gone over to the Church, the tide of war had tilted sharply, and in the end only House Agarpe had remained on the side of the crown—or so I remembered.

"Of course our House Agarpe also eventually turned against the royal house. As you say, Baron Volterre, there was no justice in the crown. So let us drop this subject."

"That would be best. Today is a joyful wedding, after all!"

A wedding. Yes. A wedding should have only pleasant talk. What would happen if, on a day like this, one said, "Pay up the offerings you've been overdue on"?

Archbishop Archibold had handed me a rather thorny quest.

"I truly congratulate Lady Cathy on her marriage. But as I said earlier, I have come to collect money that is rightfully due. I will speak as the proxy of Elohim."

"Elohim?"

"The three hundred gold coins that you and House Volterre promised. Pay them at once, every last one. Otherwise you may suffer a great calamity."

Three hundred gold coins was an enormous sum. In my view, the reason House Volterre had been required to offer three hundred gold toward the construction of the Grand Cathedral was probably a rite of a loyalty oath. Since Volterre had originally been a banner house of Agarpe, the Church would have wanted a collar around their necks. Something like: if you are truly loyal to the Church, pay the offering—that kind of bargain.

But after the war ended and peaceful times returned, Baron Volterre may simply have grown unwilling to part with so much money. So he had stalled with one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠excuse after another.

"Very well, Lord Hyde. Wait a moment. Our house is far too poor and insignificant, yet how could we dare steal what belongs to God? I will fetch the three hundred gold coins at once."

Baron Volterre rose from his seat. A more reasonable man than I had expected. That was probably why he was the type to cling first to one side, then the other.

There had never been any logical flaw in what I said, after all.

I'm only demanding what is just, with just authority. If anything, I'm giving Baron Volterre and his house a chance to be forgiven for the sin of stealing God's offering.

In that frame of mind five minutes passed, then ten, then thirty. I began to find it strange that Baron Volterre had not returned. Sensing something off, I stepped out into the garden—and there I saw Baron Volterre laughing heartily among a cluster of people who looked like nobles.

"Baron Volterre, what are you doing right now?"

"Ah, Lord Hyde. I was just borrowing money from these people so I could pay the offering. But it isn't going as well as I hoped."

Then Volterre looked at the man standing before him.

The man had bright blond hair and stood about a head shorter than I was. He wore extremely high-heeled shoes, carried a fine sword at his hip, and wore a gold ring on his finger.

Baron Russe Volterre said,

"Listen here, Aaron, my son-in-law. This inadequate father-in-law of yours needs three hundred gold coins. Could you lend me some?"

"I'll look into it at once, but not today. After all, today is my wedding day, isn't it? More importantly, Lord Hyde—a pleasure to meet you. I am Aaron, second son of House Orleans. I once put forward a marriage proposal for Lady Psyche myself. So she married you. But there's still talk that she's a 'virgin.' Is that true?"

As he spoke, the man's eyes looked down on me with open arrogance.

A man of House Orleans. So that was the backing this Volterre bastard had been relying on when he swaggered like this—he had become in-laws with a count's house. A new lifeline, was it?

"House Orleans here produced none other than Sir Roland, one of the six knights of the Holy Crusade."

"Roland is my older brother. Compared to that brilliant brother of mine, I'm nothing but a pauper. Still, I'll make sure the money reaches you, so for today just enjoy yourself and leave. Lord Hyde. No need to make anyone's face red at a wedding."

At last Aaron Orleans gave my shoulder a few light pats with his hand. The attitude was pure, What else can you do but turn around and go home?

These bastards—

So they were going to screw me over like this?

No. This was not merely screwing me over. It was the same as spitting curses straight into the faces of my backers—House Agarpe and Archbishop Archibold. And it was the same as raising a banner of rebellion against the will of Elohim, who had sent me into this land.

But as the monk Hyde, there was nothing I could do in this place. There was nothing more I should do, either. Right now the monk Hyde was a man standing in an extremely political position.

"Then I will take my leave. May it be a fine wedding."

As I withdrew, a noisy laugh followed me—"Haha! You're welcome to stay and enjoy yourself as long as you like!"

I pretended to head for the privy and rummaged inside my robes.

There it was—the mask, stained with blood, a red cross painted across it.