Wandering Part Two
“You’ve already met that fellow Caelo, have you not?”
Invincible Caelo—the red-haired knight who wielded a pitch-black greatsword. Lawrence still remembered the feats he had displayed in Frang Village.
“I met him at the holy site in Frang Village.”
“I heard he was quite skilled. Even so, to think he’d come all the way to the north. Young people really do have a way of throwing themselves into things, don’t they? An old man like me can’t begin to keep up with that kind of fire.”
Wan let out a hearty laugh, then his expression lost all trace of amusement. “Still, I’d hate to see that fire burn so hot it turns into a mistake. It would be a terrible shame for talent to wither before it ever got a chance to bloom.”
“Right. From what you’ve said about cooperation, it sounds like you’re searching for the palace left behind by the northern people.”
Lawrence nodded. “I was told it might be a holy site.”
“It might be. I saw it with my own two eyes. I can’t say for sure whether it was a holy site, but I can say with confidence that it was something very much like one.”
One of the Four Knights of the Promise himself had vouched for it.
Realizing he had come to the right place, Lawrence’s hand curled into a fist before he even noticed it.
“But the road there won’t be easy.”
“Killian agreed to help.”
“A single Watcher isn’t enough. The palace lies deep in the tunnels. And that’s not even getting into the matter of getting there. What do you plan to do about supplies?”
“Aren’t there stations like this scattered along the way? With Killian’s help, I don’t think it’ll be difficult to obtain support.”
“Ahaha. You’re naive. Sorry to say it, but things in this world don’t go so smoothly.”
Wan lifted his pipe to his mouth and went on. “Take a good look around this tunnel. It’s only been recently that supplies started coming into the relay stations. You think they’d hand over provisions prepared for the Watchers of Winter to an outsider? And not just any outsider, either, but someone visiting for personal business? That’s far beyond the authority of a mere Watcher.”
“Then Killian can’t help either? But he brought me here.”
“He did. He brought you here, yes. Not to the northern people’s palace, but to me.”
At Wan’s answer, Lawrence’s eyes widened.
He understood at last what Killian had meant by cooperation.
“Sir Wan…”
“Let me be clear from the start. I’m not like the other Four Knights of the Promise. I belong to the Laynald Family only because I’m repaying a debt to the old man. I’m not here to meddle in the family’s affairs.”
He lowered his pipe. “In other words, I could help you, or I could refuse. Either way is fine by me. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“You’re saying you can’t help me.”
“Sharp as ever. Good. Don’t be too disappointed. Once you’re my age, everything starts feeling like a chore. Especially when it looks like it might turn noisy—I have no interest whatsoever in getting dragged into that.”
Chuckling under his breath, Wan took another drag from his pipe.
Lawrence took a moment to collect his thoughts.
That was the limit of what Killian could do.
And Wandering Wan had no intention of helping him.
Lawrence didn’t know where in this tunnel the holy site might be.
The Watchers of Winter certainly weren’t the sort of people who’d answer such a question with anything useful, and Killian wouldn’t point him to it either.
From the beginning, the Winter Gallery itself must have been classified as a top-secret route in the north. Maybe the only reason they had let him see it at all was because of the oath laid upon the Heart of Winter.
Could it really end here…?
…
No. That wasn’t it.
Even though the conversation was effectively over, Wan was still watching Lawrence.
His face, half-hidden beneath the bamboo hat, was full of mischief, as if he were waiting to see how Lawrence would respond.
“What do I need to do to formally request cooperation?”
“Let’s see. Wouldn’t you go through the Watcher? Of course, if a mere mage were to make such a request, the Watchers probably wouldn’t even pretend to listen.”
Wan shook his head, as though that wasn’t the answer he’d wanted.
That reaction was enough to confirm it.
He could help, or he could refuse. If he felt like it, he could lend a hand.
That was what he was saying without saying it.
“If I can’t get help from the Watchers, I’ll go alone.”
“Does this tunnel look so harmless to you? If you want to become lunch for a kobold or an ice troll, go ahead and try your luck.”
It wasn’t a question of skill.
Lawrence knew better than most how dangerous a journey alone could be.
Once tension stretched too tight, it would snap eventually.
And there was no enemy more terrifying than the monster that waited for that moment.
“Then it would be better to move with Killian.”
“Don’t worry about that. A Watcher will never leave you alone. This is their territory, after all. To put it another way, without them, you can’t even wander these tunnels on your own.”
The question itself had been wrong.
With a little thought, he should have realized that.
Apparently, he’d been so impatient that his vision had narrowed.
Lawrence chewed over the problem carefully before speaking again.
“You said the biggest problem with searching the tunnels right now is supplies, didn’t you?”
“Exactly. More or less. It takes money to move people. It takes money to hire them. It takes money to feed them. Hell, even the clothes on their backs cost money.”
Pipe still between his teeth, Wan went on. “The Watchers of Winter never do anything at a loss. And that isn’t just true for these fellows. From the perspective of anyone managing an organization, you’ve always got to save money where you can.”
“Then if we solve the supply issue, Killian and the Watchers can help me.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But at the moment, there’s enough merit in searching the tunnels to make it worthwhile. Otherwise, there’d be no reason to pour supplies into this dreary hole.”
…I need to ask someone who has the authority to help.
Wan’s mouth twitched at the mutter slipping from Lawrence’s lips.
“The guildmaster of the Black Rose Merchant Guild. Agnes, was it?”
At the end of his gaze was a woman crunching on a cookie.
“Hmm. She’s a woman with a truly dreadful personality.”
“Pardon?”
Something strange had clearly been said.
“No. Nothing. Just an old man talking to himself.”
Wan wore an easy smile that made him look harmless.
“Like I said earlier, I’m not getting involved. From here on, it’s up to you youngsters. If I were to give you one piece of advice, it would be this: that woman is only kind to people she can use. In that sense, though, I’d say you’ve got a decent chance of persuading her.”
As if telling him to get going, he lay back down where he was.
“Thank you for the advice, Sir Wan.”
“Anyone hearing that might misunderstand. I didn’t do anything at all, did I? The young man just worked hard on his own.”
Lawrence bowed deeply.
Wan, his face hidden by the bamboo hat, waved him off.
* * *
“Very well. I’ll arrange a meeting.”
Had this already been discussed in advance?
Killian gave a short nod, showing no particular surprise.
“But that’s as far as I go. You’re on your own once you sit down at the table.”
He cut it off clearly, as if to say Lawrence shouldn’t expect any other help.
“Is there anything I should know before the negotiation?”
“What exactly did you hear me say just now?”
“I’m not asking you to help me persuade her. I’m asking for information that might help with the negotiation.”
It was Lawrence who would bear the risk, after all.
It was obvious the Watchers were struggling with a shortage of supplies.
For them, failure would change nothing.
But if he succeeded, they would gain the resources needed to search the tunnels, so it wasn’t a loss either way.
According to Rose, the relay station had only taken shape recently.
If that shabby little setup was considered adequate, then before that, there truly must have been nothing here at all.
Now he understood a little more.
The rumors surrounding the Watchers of Winter weren’t all nonsense.
Merely surviving took money.
Unlike a noble house with its own lands, they had no private domain of their own.
And unlike the Magic Tower, they had no steady stream of income like scrolls.
Into that situation had stepped the Black Rose Merchant Guild.
Lawrence didn’t know what lay within the tunnels.
Still, if there were abandoned mines above and they used the word “tunnels,” then it was certain there was some vein of ore worth money down there, just as Rose had guessed.
Otherwise, the shrewd Black Rose Merchant Guild would never have extended a hand.
The deal existed because it was profitable for both sides.
“It won’t be a bad story for you either. I’m the only one taking the risk. But if I succeed, the Watchers will gain the supplies needed for the search.”
“You know one thing but not the other. What we want is the guild’s continued support. A one-time search means nothing.”
He wasn’t wrong.
But Lawrence had already prepared an answer for that too.
“Even if it’s only a one-time search, it won’t be an ordinary one. Sir Killian knows the place I’m looking for lies deep in the tunnels, doesn’t he? Whatever’s around it, we won’t be returning empty-handed.”
…
Killian did not deny it.
He lit the end of his cigarette and drew on it.
White smoke curled up toward the ceiling.
“Lady Agnes bites her nails when she’s deep in thought.”
The wait wasn’t long.
Having made up his mind, Killian spoke.
“She bites them so much she once commissioned a craftsman to make something like that for her.”
So that was why she wore those bone fingers.
“I thought she wore them as a deliberate fashion choice.”
“That probably isn’t entirely wrong. It leaves an impression you can’t forget after one look. Like it or not, it’s an easy way to carve yourself into someone else’s mind.”
He lowered his cigarette and continued, “Don’t think of her as an ordinary woman. She’s an ambitious soul who seized the position of guildmaster at barely twenty. Face her as you would a merchant, through and through.”
“In other words, she won’t move unless there’s profit in it. That’s a reassuring way to think about it.”
That had been Oswin’s way too.
As a vice-guildmaster, he had placed the guild’s interests above everything else.
So naturally, a guildmaster responsible for the entire organization would see everything in terms of calculation.
“That’s not what I mean.”
Shaking his head, Killian stated it flatly. “She has an uncanny nose for money. Even if you don’t persuade her, she’ll move on her own if she smells profit. That’s what merchants are.”
…
Lawrence rested his hand against his chin.
Maybe that was a relief, in a way.
To be honest, he didn’t have many cards to play in a negotiation like this.
No—if he thought about it carefully, he really only had one.
“Thorns. If she seems like she’s been pricked by the Black Rose’s thorns, look her in the eye. That might give you a chance.”
Thorns?
“I’ll keep the Watcher’s advice in mind.”
“No need to. If you succeed in the negotiation, we gain something too. And if you fail, we lose nothing.”
Killian flicked away the cigarette he had finished.
Lawrence started walking beside him.
An employee of the guild blocked their way in front of Agnes.
“What can I do for you?”
“I have business with Lady Agnes.”
“If you’ll wait a moment—”
“No need. I’ll escort them.”
Agnes gave the order.
The employee bowed deeply and led the two of them inside.
Agnes had removed her black glasses and was now holding a monocle.
The object she was studying was a mineral imbued with a beautiful glow.
A tiny ore no bigger than a handspan. A mana stone.
“What is it, Watcher?”
Agnes did not even look at the two of them.
Her eyes remained fixed on the mana stone, unmoving.
“This man says he has business with Lady Agnes.”
Just as Lawrence was about to step forward, Killian held out a hand to stop him, as though telling him to wait.
“I trust you understand what it means to waste my time.”
“You know Sir Wan as well. I’d appreciate if you could spare a moment.”
…
At the mention of Wan’s name, Agnes lowered the monocle.
After setting the black glasses back on the table, she finally looked at Lawrence.
The glasses perched on the bridge of her nose were little more than an accessory.
The red eyes visible beyond them called something to mind.
Only the color was similar.
The chilling sense of pressure that had come with it was nowhere to be felt.
Perhaps because of that, Lawrence could feel the tension in his shoulders ease.
“May I ask who you are?”
“I think Lady Agnes has probably heard the name before. The Shadow Mage.”
Something brightened in her red eyes.
“The Shadow Mage. Yes, that is a name I remember. I see… I hadn’t realized you were so young.”
Lawrence bowed his head. “I’m Lawrence, the Shadow Mage.”
“Agnes, guildmaster of the Black Rose Merchant Guild.”
A graceful curve touched Agnes’s lips.
It was a smile so beautiful it stole his attention for a moment.
An employee approached and handed her a fan.
She opened it.
The black rose painted across it hid her face.
“I had no idea I’d meet you here. I heard our Brom was in your debt last time.”
Brom?
Fortunately, Lawrence remembered who that was.
He was the vice-guildmaster of the Black Rose Merchant Guild.
“In my debt? It was just an escort request.”
It had been an escort mission from Frang to Mistra.
Because the escort had been so large, Lawrence had barely even crossed paths with Brom.
“Was that perhaps your answer to the offer I made you then?”
For a moment, he wasn’t sure what she meant.
Then he remembered the scouting offer he’d received after finishing the escort job.
Come to think of it, he couldn’t even recall where that note had gone.
“No, it wasn’t.”
“I see. Then since we’ve met like this, perhaps it’s fate. Why not consider it once more? It wouldn’t be a bad deal for the Shadow Mage.”
For some reason, he could already picture the expression she was making behind that fan.
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