Winterglen (1)
"You can't ride a horse inside the village. There's a stable in the carriage yard, so you can leave it there."
"No, I'm planning to sell the horse. Could I do that there?"
"Of course. Horses are rare in the north, you know. If you have one, there are all sorts of uses for it. You can even eat the meat. Horse meat is considered a delicacy up north, in fact—quite a fine cut."
It really was delicious, the gatekeeper added.
For a moment, Lawrence was too startled by the idea of eating horses to react.
Then he pushed the personal feeling aside.
There was nothing to be done about it. The north simply wasn't a place where you could ride around on horseback. He had been able to travel comfortably before entering the snowfields, but after that he had moved as slowly as a cart at best.
When he returned from selling the horse at the stable, he saw a cluster of mercenaries gathered together. Oswin was talking with someone at the checkpoint. When his gaze met Lawrence's, he dipped his head slightly.
They could talk later. Lawrence joined the line to collect his payment.
For some reason, the mercenary standing in front of him looked familiar from behind.
That filthy green hair.
That sour, rotten smell, mixed with the stench of alcohol.
It was an odor he remembered all too well.
"Oh? Isn't that Shadow Mage?"
"……."
"Why are you sighing the second you see my face?"
"Are you really asking because you don't know?"
"Yep. I don't remember ever stiffing a mage on his money."
Rose's easy reply only made him feel more tired.
"So why are you standing in line? If you're a mage, you'd think people would just let you go to the front."
"I'm a mercenary right now, not a mage."
Mercenaries had their own way of doing things. No matter who he was, Lawrence had no reason to expect special treatment.
"Ahh. So it's pride that doesn't put a single coin in your pocket? Men really do cling to the strangest things."
As if speaking at length would only waste breath, she let out a snort of laughter.
"More importantly, how about a round of cards? There's a famous card game up north. It's really fun."
"That's not a card game. It's gambling."
"What's gambling? If anything, shouldn't you call it a game where you bet your life?"
Everyone else in the world called that gambling.
Rose toyed with a silver coin between her fingers, looking delighted.
"If you change your mind, come to the tavern. There's only one in this little town anyway. If a mage shows up, everyone's going to welcome him with open arms."
They probably would.
If some greenhorn who didn't understand gambling wandered in, they would strip him clean in no time at all.
With a careless wave of farewell, she headed toward an empty table.
Before long, Lawrence's turn came as well.
There were as many as five staff members handling the mercenaries' wages, and they were paying everyone exactly as the contract stated.
"Ah, Mister Lawrence. You really went through a lot."
"You and the vice chairman, and everyone else as well. You all worked hard."
The staffer was clearly named Eldot, if Lawrence remembered correctly. He had been the one to report on the damage caused by the wendigo.
"We were just doing our jobs. If you hadn't stopped the wendigo, the damage would have been much worse."
A bitter smile touched Eldot's lips.
"The vice chairman said he paid special attention to your case."
For all that, the purse felt a bit light.
But when Lawrence opened the bundle, he was genuinely startled.
Inside were ten gleaming gold coins.
"This much?"
The payment stated in the contract was two gold.
There had been another five gold promised for taking responsibility.
In other words, they had added another three gold as a success bonus.
"Compared to the price of the lives you saved, this is nothing. You defeated that wendigo all by yourself, didn't you? Thank you. Thanks to you, the company survived. I survived too."
Eldot rose and bowed deeply.
"I'll be filing a report to the Guild on behalf of the company. It was a difficult request. You truly did well. I've made a reservation at a restaurant, so if you're willing, I'd be glad if you went there and rested after the journey."
After the greetings were finished, Lawrence stepped around to the back of the street.
There he found Sing and Sidra, who had already collected their payment before him.
"So you two were here after all."
"Are you going to the after-party?"
"I'm still thinking about it."
He wasn't sure there was any need to attend. He did need to meet Oswin once, but he had no desire to do it in a room full of mercenaries.
"Then the Red Fist is the only one who's definitely going to the restaurant."
"No. If you all aren't going, why should I?"
Sidra looked offended.
"Weren't you thrilled when you thought it was free drinks just a minute ago?"
"Even if the booze is free, who I'm drinking with matters."
"Aren't the other mercenaries going too?"
"If I showed up there, I'd be lucky if I only got called clueless. Forget it. I'm not going. It's not like I'll die if I miss one meal."
In the end, all three of them decided to skip the after-party.
"Everyone did well. It wasn't exactly smooth sailing, was it?"
"We had the misfortune of running into a wendigo, but even so, it wasn't the worst outcome. The timing was good. The fact that we never ran into a blizzard means this request was a success."
"For a company with Mistra's name on it, that shouldn't be surprising. They probably targeted this season from the start."
That was probably true.
The reason they had set out toward the end of winter was exactly that: spring was better than winter, after all, and it was a decision made with the north's cold in mind.
But once they had actually set out, Lawrence thought they might have been fine leaving a little later.
What was truly frightening, though, was that from here on, he had no idea how much longer he'd have to keep fighting this cold.
"If the pay hadn't been decent, I wouldn't have touched it. Anyway, I'm heading straight back down to Mistra. What about you two?"
"We finally came all the way up to the north. This place is always short on hands. For a while, we're planning to take extermination requests around Winterglen."
Their eyes turned to Lawrence.
"I'm planning to head up to Saint Wall."
"Saint Wall?"
"Yes. That's why I wanted to ask you both something. Do you know any guides? It would be even better if you knew a guide who can lead me all the way to Saint Wall, or a sherpa who knows the north well."
He had nothing to lose by asking.
Sidra rested his chin in his hand.
"Let's see. I almost never come up north, so... I don't know any guides, even if I know the monsters around here."
"I see."
The unexpected good news came from Sing.
"I know one village of a minority tribe."
"Could I ask you to introduce me?"
"There's no reason I can't. You did me a favor."
Sing took a small figurine from inside his clothes.
"First, find a guide who knows Reindeer Village. If you arrive safely, give this figurine to one of the villagers and tell them my name. Depending on the story, they might introduce you to a sherpa."
Lawrence accepted the figurine Sing held out to him.
The deer-like carving was somehow crude, as if it had been made in a hurry.
"Thank you, Mr. Sing."
It was always worth asking. If things went well, he might not need to go to Saint Wall at all.
"Next time, I'd like to work on an extermination request with you rather than an escort request. That way, you can make full use of your abilities."
"I'm busy with my schedule for now, but when the time comes, I'll definitely work with you."
Lawrence held out his hand to Sing.
Sing wore a faint smile as he took it.
"Wait. Isn't it a little regrettable to part like this? Let's eat together before we go. What do you say?"
Sidra pointed toward the restaurant, as if telling them not to be difficult.
"Is Sidra paying?"
"What? Am I the only one getting paid? Damn it. Fine. I'll pay. Then you're both coming, right?"
"Hm. If it's like that, I can't refuse."
This time, Lawrence didn't refuse either.
The two of them went to the restaurant with Sidra.
* * *
The morning in Winterglen began with snow.
The sound of the falling flakes was so loud Lawrence had first thought something had happened to the inn. When he pushed against the frozen window, he found a blizzard raging outside. Everything was white. The village had been swallowed by snow so completely that nothing else could be seen.
At this rate, it was a day to stay quietly at the inn.
That was fine with him.
He had planned to rest at the lodging today anyway. The escort request had been long, and the fatigue piled onto his body was no small matter. For now, he would focus on recovering.
There were plenty of things he could do without going outside.
He soaked himself in hot water, and it felt as if the weariness were being washed away with the bathwater itself.
As his body went limp, the conversation he had had with Oswin last night came back to him.
"...At any rate, I'm relieved we made it to Winterglen somehow. From here on, we'll hire a village guide and secure a safe route forward. Whatever the job, the first time is always the hardest. We'll take this as a lesson and continue doing business in the north."
Lawrence suspected the Mistra Company would only get busier from here on out.
After removing his vestment and clerical robe, he went down to the first floor. Just as it had been at the Magic Tower, if the clergy wasn't looked upon kindly, there was no need to reveal his identity. The common room was surprisingly quiet. It didn't seem like there were many guests staying here; hardly anyone was eating breakfast.
Lawrence sat down near the fireplace.
Not long after he took his seat, a serving girl came over.
She was still young enough to wear the last traces of girlhood.
"Good morning. Would you like to order?"
"Bring me two servings of whatever sells best."
"Two servings? Understood. What would you like to drink?"
"Do you have milk?"
"We don't have milk."
"Then water will do."
He had thought as much.
"I'll repeat your order: two servings of charcoal-grilled seal with ribs and fin dishes, plus water. Is that right?"
Lawrence nodded.
So seal dishes were the local specialty here too. The restaurant he had visited yesterday had also piled meat on top of meat until he thought his plate would collapse. That was fine. Lawrence welcomed meat with both arms, or rather both hands.
And when it came to whether seal dishes were good or not, the answer was obviously yes.
At the very least, no one could deny they had a satisfying chew.
"There's something I'd like to ask."
Lawrence set a copper coin on the table. The serving girl's eyes sparkled at the sight of the tip.
"Depending on your answer, this copper coin could be yours too."
He set down another copper coin on top of it.
"Just ask. What would you like to know?"
"Is there any sherpa around here?"
"A sherpa? There isn't one in our village. But there is a guide. Would a guide be no good?"
It wasn't quite the answer he had hoped for. What the girl had mentioned was an ordinary guide.
"Does that guide happen to know the other villages well? The village's name is Reindeer Village."
"Reindeer Village? Hmm... I'm not really sure, but you mean one of those villages where a minority tribe lives, right? If that's what you mean, Uncle Ralph might know."
The girl's voice lacked confidence.
Her eyes kept drifting back to the copper coin.
"Is Uncle Ralph a guide?"
"He works as a guide sometimes. Most of the time, though, he hunts seals."
"He hunts seals?"
"Yes. You know, seals come up to breathe through their holes, and then he throws a spear like this and catches them. You didn't know?"
The girl awkwardly mimed throwing a spear.
So he made a living as a hunter, then worked as a guide from time to time? That was probably the right way to think about it.
"Where can I find Uncle Ralph?"
Lawrence handed the copper coins to the serving girl.
* * *
It was two days later when Lawrence finally left the inn.
Winterglen, after the blizzard had eased, was covered in an expanse of white snow.
The frozen environment was a violent marriage of the ice-bound north and the winds it sent roaring across the land. All along the streets, people could be seen clearing the snow away.
They wore thick fur clothes with hoods attached, gloves and boots that blocked the cold from ever getting a foothold. Aside from their faces, no skin was left exposed to the outside.
From the entrances of shops all the way to the broad main road, the residents pushed the snow to the side so it wouldn't bother passersby. The snow gathered there rose up like little hills.
Every time his breath fogged out in front of him, Lawrence felt his body grow colder too. He tightened his collar.
If he was going to be active in the north from here on, he would have to grow used to this cold.