Flip "Crisis" Around and You Get... Sis-Cris?!
Flip the word "crisis" around and you get... "sis-cris"... wait, that's not "opportunity" at all?!
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"That's right, my lady. Losing a match doesn't automatically make me someone's retainer. I'm a free citizen, a foreigner, and a mercenary."
Hildegard laid out her position with perfect clarity. She tapped a fingertip lightly against her wine glass and went on.
"That said... lending my blade to whoever pays for it is my profession. So if you were to offer terms good enough, I might be persuaded to consider."
Hold on... wasn't sparring with someone and becoming friends the common sense of this world?!
It was the second culture shock I'd felt since becoming Katerina, and it hit just as hard as the first.
Natasha and Milena — even the Mountain King, a literal beast — had all gotten quite chummy after a good old-fashioned brawl, and had more or less ended up political allies of mine. So I'd assumed that in this world, one duel was all it took to make a friend of anyone.
In exact opposition to those two women and one animal, Hildegard's reaction was a flat "that's that, and this is this." The fresh common sense I'd built up since arriving in this world had just cracked right down the middle, and it left me feeling almost dizzy.
So it really was the northerners who were the weird ones all along?
I tried my best to hide my flustered state, but my face management had completely failed.
"I... I seem to have misunderstood, I do. Back home in the north, gettin' friendlier in all sorts of ways after a spar is pretty much the norm, y'know..."
"I understand. From my years as a mercenary, I've learned that every region has its cultural differences. Unfortunately, I'm an Imperial, and northern customs are unfamiliar to me. I prefer to work under clear conditions and formal agreements. Especially in matters of employment."
"I see..."
Bielka's startled eyes darted back and forth between the two of us before she crept over to me and whispered.
"Lady Katerina, Empire folk are kinda strange, ain't they?"
From where I'm standing, it's northern culture that's deranged!
...No, no. Calm down. Get it together.
I gathered my thoughts and cleared my throat. Plan A had collapsed entirely, which meant I needed to come up with a Plan B.
"Then... what sort of conditions would make consideration possible, might I ask?"
Hildegard set her wine glass down on the table as if she'd been waiting for exactly that question. Her fingers were long and elegant, but calloused hard from a mercenary's life of gripping steel.
"First, appropriate compensation. Second, private quarters that meet my standards. Third, the authority to move freely. And above all—"
Before she could finish, a sudden commotion erupted from the floor below the inn. Footsteps, the dull thud of something — or someone — hitting the floor, and the innkeeper's protesting voice all tangled together.
"In the name of the Imperial Special Magistrate! We have come to arrest Hildegard Pechter, indicted for the crime of treason!"
The authoritative voice rang through the lower floor of the inn, cold and unyielding as a judge pronouncing sentence in a courtroom.
The color drained from Hildegard's face. Her ice-blue eyes dilated for an instant, and her grip on the wine glass tightened until her fingers went white.
"Treason? What in the... ah. Those people, is it..."
Her voice was low and taut, but she didn't sound shocked by something unexpected. Apparently, she'd had her suspicions about something all along.
"What's goin' on?"
Bielka asked in a tiny voice, but instead of answering, Hildegard moved to the window. I followed and scanned the street below.
Out in front of the inn stood two men in the garb of Imperial magistrates, flanked by more than a dozen armed soldiers. The soldiers had the inn completely surrounded.
"Those are... caravan guards, aren't they. Why on earth are they wearing Imperial soldier armor?"
Hildegard murmured under her breath.
"Even to catch a traitor, they couldn't openly send troops all the way into the Grand Duchy's northern territory. So they disguised them as caravan escorts, is that it..."
Treason? What situation is this supposed to be? Wasn't Hildegard just a highly skilled female mercenary?
How does a single mercenary commit treason — and how does anyone justify disguising soldiers as caravan guards and sending them all the way to this frozen northern backwater just to apprehend one woman?
For a moment I genuinely didn't know how to respond. First things first — I needed to understand the situation better.
"Those folks out there are sayin' you've been charged with treason. Care to tell us what in the world that's about?"
Hildegard stepped back from the window and lifted her woldo from its stand.
"There's no time for a long explanation. In short—"
She tightened her grip on the woldo as she spoke.
"I worked for the wrong people... no, let's say I chose the wrong side to stand on.
In a dispute between landed houses in the Empire's eastern provinces, I was hired by one faction and lent them my strength for quite a long while — and of all the luck, my employer lost."
Footsteps on the first floor were drawing steadily closer. We were out of time.
"The victors write history. Part of it's my own fault for wading too deep into politics. I'm a mercenary, so they didn't just cut me down on the spot — I was able to walk away. But in the end, the blade of retribution has come calling, hasn't it."
The metallic clatter of armor against armor grew louder along with the heavy footfalls. They were headed for our room.
"The factions that brought down my employer don't reach the very center of Imperial power, but they're no small force. They're closely tied to influential trading companies as well.
Think of it as a sort of political-commercial alliance. That's how, with the trading companies' cooperation, they could send an Imperial magistrate with soldiers in tow all the way to the northern Grand Duchy."
You said "in short" and then gave me the whole detailed lecture, which I do appreciate, but we genuinely don't have time for this!
Hildegard had already shifted into a combat stance. Blue veins stood out along the back of her hand where it wrapped the haft of the woldo.
"I'm truly sorry for dragging the two of you into my affairs. This is my problem, and I'll handle it myself. Tell them you have no connection to me and slip away."
A rough pounding came from the other side of the door. No — "knocking" was too gentle a word for it. It was more like someone trying to batter the thing down.
"By order of the Imperial Magistrate! Open this door at once! Delay further and we will break it open!"
Ever since I'd first heard that voice from the first floor, I'd been getting back into the suit of armor that Bielka and I had stowed in a corner of the room. I'd fitted the visored helm over my face as well. If the identity of the Grand Duke's daughter came to light in a situation like this, things would only get that much more tangled.
Bielka glanced around with anxious eyes.
"Uh... what do we do, Lady Katerina?"
I surveyed our surroundings at speed. Our room was on the second floor, and through the window I could see a narrow alley below.
I dashed to the window and looked out. Two stories up — but easily jumpable. Especially with Katerina's body; a height like this was nothing.
"We can go out this way!"
Hildegard gave me a puzzled look in the direction of the window.
"You want to... jump from the second floor? Soldiers are already posted out there. That would be the same as flinging ourselves into the fire."
"Don't you worry. It's no problem for me, it ain't."
The pounding on the door grew harder still. Now the door itself was beginning to shudder. There was no doubt about it — they intended to break it down.
Hildegard approached the window, but her hesitation was plain as day.
"Even now, you may change your mind. If you're caught helping me, you could make an enemy of one of the Empire's most powerful factions."
I smiled behind the visor. Her concerns were certainly well-founded — but they didn't weigh on me much at all. Heiress to the Grand Duchy of Eisenmark, remember?
"The heir of Eisenmark doesn't let trifles like that stand in her way, she don't."
Making an enemy of some powerful Imperial faction was nothing compared to the fallout I'd face if it got out that I'd disobeyed my mother's orders to sneak out in disguise — and then gone and entered a tournament in the market square, no less, while I was at it.
"I can't stand by and let someone be hauled off unfairly on our own territory. Besides..."
The door was beginning to creak, cracks spiderwebbing through the wood.
"I've taken a fancy to you."
When I beckoned again, Bielka crept toward the window with a face full of terror.
"L-Lady Katerina, will this really be all right?"
"It'll be fine, Bielka. I'll jump down first and catch you after."
Hildegard strapped the woldo firmly across her back, gripped the window frame, and scanned the ground outside.
"I owe you a debt, my lady. One I intend to repay, whatever it takes."
From where I stood, she had already resigned herself to dying. Indicted for treason, she'd be dragged away to near-certain execution — or a lifetime rotting in a prison cell.
With her skill, she might well have beaten a dozen or more heavily armed soldiers in a straight fight. But the venue couldn't have been worse for her.
Her woldo measured nearly two meters from tip to toe; raised even a little indoors, it would scrape the ceiling or bang the walls. Meaning she couldn't use her primary weapon properly at all.
She could have tried leaping from the window, but as Hildegard herself had pointed out earlier, the soldiers were stationed outside precisely in case anyone did.
If she jumped, she'd be beaten down and pinned before she could even recover from the landing — or worse, simply run through on the spot.
"Don't you forget those words, now!"
I cinched the helm tight, raised my shield, and hurled myself out through the window.