Mistra Merchant Group (3)
“Oh my. You were a mage, sir?”
The serving girl asked in obvious surprise.
Lawrence could feel the maid beside him startle as well.
“You do know that anything you hear inside this establishment is to remain a secret, don’t you?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Don’t worry. Even if a knife were pressed to my throat, nothing that’s said at the master’s table will ever leave this shop.”
Lionel spoke as if to reassure them, but Lawrence didn’t believe him.
No—more precisely, he didn’t trust the two serving girls sitting with them.
Lawrence rose from his seat and called for Lionel.
With exaggerated reluctance, Lionel leaned in to listen.
“I missed the chance to mention it before. I’m a priest of the Order.”
“I’d already heard from Oswin.”
“I’m sorry if it looked as though I’d deceived you.”
“Think nothing of it, lad. I understand well enough why you did it.”
The Order and the Magic Tower were bitter enemies, after all.
As if to show he understood, he waved a hand in dismissal.
“What on earth were the masters talking about?”
“If you know, you’ll get hurt.”
Lionel cut off the maid’s voice as sharply as a blade.
At the warning not to pry, she promptly closed her mouth.
A server brought drinks to the table.
Dark red liquor.
It seemed to be the Red Dragon Lionel had ordered.
“Be careful, Mr. Lionel. I’d like to know you for a very long time, if possible.”
“If a woman had said that, I’d have been overjoyed.”
The serving girls hurried to fill their glasses.
Before long, two crimson-filled cups were set before them.
“I’m all right.”
“No, no, have a drink. Milk isn’t served in a place like this.”
They had clearly come here to eat dinner.
Lawrence didn’t understand how the conversation had suddenly become about drinking.
Frowning, he reluctantly picked up his cup.
“Then, to your health!”
“To yours.”
The glasses clinked.
Unlike Lionel, who drained his in one go, Lawrence stared at his cup for a moment before drinking.
What hit him first was a heat like fire in his throat.
Then came a fishy bitterness that spread through his mouth and down into his throat.
Lawrence grimaced.
It was a taste that defied easy description.
The maid beside him held out a grape.
“If you eat this with it, it’ll be a little better, sir.”
“……”
She was right.
The grape’s sweetness dulled the bitterness.
“You handle your liquor better than I’d thought. A man ought to know how to drink, after all.”
“This tastes absolutely awful. Why would anyone bother paying good money to drink something like this?”
“Wahaha! You’re still too young to understand the taste of liquor. Someday, that bitter flavor will seem sweet to you.”
“I hope that day never comes.”
That was Lawrence’s honest reply.
“So, who was the man who took Miriam away?”
“I don’t know. What was his name again…? Well, no matter. He’s probably a noble anyway. Why should I care about that?”
Lionel wore the face of someone trying very hard not to remember.
“I heard Mistra has a lot of bards. It doesn’t have to be a noble, does it?”
“And do you think Mistra has only bards? There are enough handsome men here to make a problem of it.”
He shrugged, then added weakly, “What saddens me is that I’m not one of them.”
“You’ve got your own charms, Mr. Lionel. It’s just that the right woman hasn’t come along to recognize them yet.”
“You said something like that before, too. But what good is it if she comes around after I’m already old and gray?”
Drinks were followed by food.
The server began setting the table with the dishes they’d ordered.
As Lionel had requested, every dish was meat.
Lawrence didn’t know what kind of meat it was, but the brown sauce drizzled over it gave off an appetizing aroma.
“I guarantee the taste. It’s the sort of place that earns its price.”
“We may not have enough.”
There were four people seated here, maidens included.
Lawrence already ate a lot on top of that.
At this rate, they might need to order more.
“Hm? No, don’t worry about these girls. They’ve already eaten.”
“But if the master offers, how could we refuse?”
“There are a few of those kinds of girls around, yes.”
Had the alcohol already gone to his head?
Lionel, his face faintly flushed, burst into laughter.
The food was excellent.
The meat melted in his mouth so smoothly it was almost closer to stew than solid flesh.
And yet it still had enough texture to remind him it was fine meat at a glance.
“Sir. Could you maybe show us some magic?”
When his plate was nearly empty, the maid asked.
“……”
Lawrence pretended not to hear and gave no answer.
“I’d like to see it again myself, if I’m honest.”
But he couldn’t ignore Lionel’s request, either.
“Magic isn’t a performance.”
“Would you show us just once, for my sake?”
“……”
No matter how he looked at it, this was because of the women.
He decided then and there that he’d avoid outings like this from now on.
He had only wanted a free dinner, and somehow he was ending up with an unwanted glimpse into another world.
“Just this once.”
After a moment’s thought, Lawrence put loyalty to Lionel first.
He was the client from his very first mercenary job.
Even knowing he was a foolish young mercenary who’d inflated his age, Lionel had turned a blind eye.
There was no denying the debt Lawrence owed him.
More than that, Lionel had been one of the people Lawrence, still so inexperienced then, had leaned on in one way or another.
“Fire.”
A thread of flame swept away the darkness gathered over the table.
“Oh my.”
“Wow.”
The two maids let out delighted exclamations.
He didn’t simply conjure a flame and stop there.
If he was going to show them something, he had no intention of displaying a half-hearted spell.
Lawrence began changing the shape of Fire.
It was a transformation he had once shown Morris’s family as well.
The flame took on the shape of an animal.
The four-legged beast raced through the air with lively energy.
“An Ulbazar Jaguar?”
“A jaguar? What’s that, sir?”
“A monster that lives in the Ulbazar Swamp.”
When Lionel recognized it, Lawrence changed Fire again.
“This time it’s a bird?”
“A Sky-blue Broad-billed Bird! Good heavens, this is remarkable. You’ve even seen one of those, the kind that only eats Waterseed?”
Lawrence answered with a smile instead of words.
The form was far more detailed than before, and that wasn’t just his imagination.
The results of his training at the Magic Tower stood clearly before his eyes.
His ability to control mana had grown beyond comparison with what it had been before.
Seizing the moment, he split the Sky-blue Broad-billed Bird in two.
The flames, layered one over the other, soon took the shape of a fat bear.
“Quick, sir. What is it now?”
“Ah. This time it’s a Bugbear.”
“A Bugbear?”
“This one’s also a monster from the Ulbazar Swamp. It’s famous in a different sense from the lizardmen of the Sultaniya Kingdom. As the name suggests, it’s a brute with monstrous strength.”
Before long, Fire had turned into a quiz Lawrence was posing to Lionel.
Lionel knew the answers, and the maids were the ones asking the questions.
Without meaning to, Lionel straightened with a little more pride.
“And what’s this? Is it an animal?”
“Let me see. An Eligator? I’ve never seen one up close myself. Judging by this shape, you must’ve run into one head-on.”
“Is this Eligator dangerous too, sir?”
“Of course. Saying it’s dangerous doesn’t even begin to cover it. If you’ve seen one of these, you’re usually already out of this world.”
“Is it really that terrifying a monster?”
“It is. There’s even a saying that the reason no one goes near the water in the Ulbazar Swamp is because of the Eligator. If you ever find yourselves in the swamp, you’d better watch that it doesn’t bite you.”
“Eek! Then you’ll protect us, won’t you, sir?”
“Of course! Just leave everything to me! Wahaha!”
This should be enough.
Seeing Lionel laugh with one of the maids in his arms, Lawrence withdrew the flame.
“Ah.”
“Was it over already?”
The two maids looked at Lawrence, disappointment plain on their faces.
Their pleading gazes stirred something in him.
“I’ll show you just one more thing.”
Declaring that this would be the last, he raised a hand.
“Engrave.”
Shimmering brilliance raced across the air.
Silver lines embroidered through empty space and formed a single word.
“What does it say?”
“My name.”
“Oh, it’s your name, sir.”
The maids didn’t seem to know how to read.
But the spell still wasn’t finished.
The next Engrave was advice Lawrence gave him directly.
“Be careful around women?”
“Yes. I think you should be careful.”
He still wasn’t fully used to the spell.
The Engrave magic that had adorned the tabletop scattered away into nothing.
Lionel wore an embarrassed expression.
“I understand. I’ll keep your words in mind.”
The server cleared away the empty plates.
Next came sheep’s milk, sweet to the taste.
“Didn’t you say you don’t serve milk?”
“You’re rather naive, aren’t you? This is sheep’s milk, not ordinary milk.”
“……”
He had nothing to say to that.
For milk, it spread too much sweetness through his mouth.
Mixed with the taste of alcohol, it became something almost bewilderingly strange.
He regretted drinking it.
It only made his stomach feel more unsettled.
Lawrence handed the sheep’s milk to the maid seated beside him.
“Thank you, sir.”
She bowed her head over and over again, then shared the sheep’s milk with the maid across from her.
“So, have you decided on your next destination?”
“This time, I’m thinking of heading north.”
“Hah. Well, you’ve picked another hard road. If you’re planning to go to Winterglen, you’d best make serious preparations.”
Hmm, Lionel muttered with a wrinkle at the corner of his mouth.
“Have you been to the north?”
“Only once.”
To Lawrence’s surprise, he nodded.
“Ever since I nearly died there, I’ve never gone back.”
“Nearly died? Is the north really that dangerous?”
“Dangerous in a different way than the Ulbazar Swamp. It’s a terrible place where nothing can be seen but a pure white snowfield. Do you know? In the north, when you wake up in the morning, the first thing you do is look for a sword.”
Lionel held his knife upside down.
“Because your feet get so cold they hurt too much, and all you can think about is chopping off everything below the ankle.”
“……”
Lawrence’s face stiffened.
He had been sensitive to cold ever since he was young.
No matter how hard summer was, he had always thought it better than winter for that very reason.
“Think about cold-weather gear first. If you don’t prepare properly, you’ll suffer the moment you go up there.”
“Then I should start with thick clothes.”
“There’s no need to buy an expensive coat just yet. The real cold won’t start until Winterglen. You’d be much better off buying proper winter clothing there.”
This was advice from someone who had actually been north.
Lawrence listened closely to Lionel’s words.
“Why is that?”
“Because anything you buy here won’t do you much good in the north anyway. Just how cold do you think Mistra gets? It only snows here now and then. Winter clothes made with that in mind are completely different from the clothes worn in the north, where snow falls like it’s part of daily life.”
“Now that you mention it, I heard Winterglen sells clothing made from wendigo hide.”
“If you know wendigos, then this conversation’s easier. In Winterglen, nobles usually wear clothes made from wendigo hide. It’d be nice if you could get your hands on one, but they’re expensive enough that you’d better bring plenty of money.”
At some point, the two men had forgotten the maids beside them and started talking about the north.
* * *
Lawrence woke with a searing headache.
He was definitely lying down, but his vision wouldn’t stop swaying.
Or rather, his head seemed to be spinning in circles.
His stomach was so nauseated it kept trying to churn upward.
Every time the urge to retch rose in his throat, the base of his neck burned.
This was different from the headache that came from using too much magic.
Only now did he realize this was what people called a hangover.
What on earth was supposed to be good about drinking this stuff?
It tasted awful and did nothing but make him feel worse.
Still, it hadn’t been a complete waste.
He had asked whether there were any merchants heading north and said he’d like to be introduced to one. Lionel had then made an unexpected offer.
“That’s actually the very thing I wanted to ask you. There aren’t many trade caravans heading north, and even fewer mercenaries willing to escort them. But if someone with proven skill like you is willing to step forward, we’d welcome it. I’ll submit the formal request through the Mercenary Guild. That would be better for you as well. In other words, it’d be a designated request.”
The escort fee was a full 2 gold.
Since he knew Lawrence’s circumstances, Lionel had also promised that the merchant group would prepare all the supplies needed for the journey north.
It was clearly a good result.
That is, if not for this damn hangover.
At this rate, he couldn’t even use magic.
Thinking a splash of cold water might help, he stepped outside—and saw a nun with a familiar face.
“Angela?”
Had she been busy from early in the morning?
Her unkempt hair made her look a little disheveled.
The strands of golden hair that fell between her eyes seemed longer than he remembered.
Her eyes widened when she saw him.
“Eek!”
A sharp scream rang out.
At the shriek right in front of him, Lawrence clapped both hands over his ears.
His headache was already bad enough from the hangover.
Hearing a scream like that made the world spin in earnest.
Damned alcohol!
He bent his head and muttered a curse.
How long had he been staring at the floor?
Once the nausea finally settled, Lawrence raised his head and opened his mouth.
“What the hell was that all a—”
But Angela was gone.
Looking around, he spotted her fleeing in a panic toward the end of the corridor.
What on earth?
Baffled by her inexplicable reaction, Lawrence frowned.