St. Pierre Monastery (2)
Let’s not rush.
Just getting information about the sanctuary was enough for now.
At any rate, from her reaction, it was clear that there really was a Lost Sanctuary in Frang.
Lawrence neatly finished his packed lunch and wiped his mouth.
“What’s the monastery like inside?”
“And why are you asking that?”
“From the way the garden looks, I figured the inside must be just as bad.”
The monastery was a space open to the faithful.
Its proper role was to provide believers with a chapel where they could pray.
And yet, even now, there wasn’t a single worshiper who had come to visit.
It might be called an open place, but only in name.
It was no exaggeration to say the monastery had lost its function entirely.
That was the part Lawrence couldn’t understand.
Even if the chapel stood empty, the monastery was still a place one could come to at any time, without burden, and offer prayers.
“Hmm….”
Katerina glanced toward the chapel and then down at the basement.
“Don’t go in yet.”
The smile vanished from her face.
“You can tell just by looking at the garden, can’t you? We can always clean the inside after we’ve dealt with the outside.”
“Fine. The garden is the urgent part, anyway.”
If he thought about it in order, the next place would be the cloister.
There was still time before they had to deal with the interior.
“But are you really not going to help?”
“What’s this now? I’ve got plenty to do myself.”
“You mean burning incense?”
“If that counts as work, then sure.”
How truly impressive.
He swallowed the rest of the remark before it could leave his mouth.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
By now, a full week had passed since their arrival in Frang.
The garden at St. Pierre Monastery was almost finished being cleaned.
The cloister still needed plenty of work, but even just clearing away the overgrown, filthy vegetation had given the monastery a far more presentable look.
He felt an unexpected sense of satisfaction.
He was proud that he hadn’t needed to borrow anyone else’s hands.
Was this what it would have been like if he hadn’t had any talent for magic—would he have looked for work in cleaning instead?
He found himself thinking that, and that alone showed how satisfying the view had become.
By then, even Katerina’s eyes looked different when she watched him.
“I really didn’t think you’d be able to sort all this out on your own.”
“If someone puts their mind to it, what can’t they do?”
“Right, right. With that same spirit, I’m counting on you to handle the cloister too, junior.”
“……”
She was looking at him like he was a gardener, not a pilgrim.
That evening, Lawrence received unexpected news.
Cedric, who had been traveling with the gypsy group, was apparently leaving the village tomorrow morning.
“I didn’t expect you to leave so suddenly.”
“It isn’t sudden. Truth be told, I spent a long time wondering whether to come to Frang at all. The gypsies have their own aims, but as for me, unless I’m in a city with plenty of people, it’s hard to make a decent living.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Elvira had said that their big sister always decided where they went next.
Apparently they had come to Frang in order to recruit new gypsies.
“There must be plenty of ladies in this village hoping for your help, too, Sir Cedric.”
“When I think of that, I truly am regretful, but I’m afraid I’ll have to force my feet to move even when they’d rather not.”
“Do you have a reason?”
“What special reason would I have?”
Cedric gave an embarrassed laugh.
Looking at his face, Lawrence suddenly found himself wondering something.
Cedric liked women that much.
So why was it that he never heard any of those sorts of stories about him and the gypsies?
Since this was the last chance he’d have, Lawrence decided to ask as he left, and Cedric’s expression grew serious.
“You should take this opportunity to remember it, too, Lawrence. To set your hand on a gypsy means to spend your whole life with her. It means living as a wanderer, following the wind wherever it leads, never settling in one place. Do you really think there’s any personal freedom in that? I certainly don’t.”
Cedric said it flatly.
“I don’t want to give up my freedom. And above all, I absolutely refuse to be bound to one woman. No matter how alluring a gypsy may be, I don’t cross that line for that reason. I am a knight to every lady.”
“I hope that feeling never changes.”
“No need to say ‘hope.’ There are things in this world that never change.”
Never change.
There was nothing in the world that didn’t change.
If anyone could say that with confidence, perhaps it was Cedric’s strength.
“I don’t know if it’ll be of any help, but when you have time, try stopping by the forge outside the village. It’s said to be near the foot of the mountain, so it shouldn’t be hard to find.”
“A forge outside the village? That’s rare. It must be dangerous with so many Horn Boars around.”
“According to the rumor, it’s run by a dwarf.”
“The kind of dwarf I’ve heard of?”
Lawrence asked in surprise.
Dwarves were said not to be found even in the port city of Albrade.
A naturally gifted race of artisans—he remembered hearing that everything they crafted was a work of art, a masterpiece by default.
“Yes. I don’t know about the Empire, but dwarves are rather scarce in the kingdom. It seems there are plenty of good mines around Frang. Dwarves, who are said to be blessed by the earth, may have somewhat difficult personalities, but they won’t be impossible to speak with. As for you, Lawrence… I think you might actually get along well with them.”
“You always think too highly of me, Sir Cedric.”
“You can trust me on this—I’m speaking from experience after meeting a real dwarf. As strange as it sounds, there are parts of you that resemble a dwarf.”
“If you’re talking about my height, I’ll be genuinely angry.”
“Ahaha. No, no. I mean your stubborn, single-minded nature is the same. The ability to focus on one thing is a tremendous blessing. Especially if that thing is magic or swordsmanship.”
Those were the words of Cedric, who had watched Lawrence’s concentration up close.
They carried a weight far beyond casual praise.
“Oh, yes. Do you remember what I told you last time?”
“You mean that there are fewer ladies in the village than expected?”
“Yes. And that my leaving so soon has nothing to do with that….”
Cedric, who had been speaking brightly, stopped mid-sentence.
“No, that’s not it. I mean the pocket watch you were given, Lawrence.”
“Ah, you mean the Raynald family.”
He remembered perfectly well.
It was a gift from Lurizisa, of all people.
There was no way he’d forgotten the advice that had identified her family.
“To be honest, I don’t really know why someone from the Raynald family gave you that gift. Still, I’m certain there was some reason behind it.”
“So what you’re saying is that person gave this to me with some kind of sinister thought in mind?”
“What? No. Absolutely not. I’m not insulting the person who gave you the gift. And I certainly want to make it clear that I had no intention of dishonoring them either.”
Cedric hurriedly waved both hands in protest.
“Lawrence, do you know what noble society does when it discovers a talented individual?”
There was no way he would know that.
How often, in the course of an ordinary life, did one ever have occasion to mix with nobles?
“Usually they offer patronage or act as a sponsor and draw that talent into their family. There are plenty of commoners with talent who simply lack the background or the money to let that talent bloom.”
“Come to think of it, didn’t you say something like that when we were talking about Esmeralda? That if she’d been born into a noble house, she might have become a scholar….”
“Exactly. There’s nothing more tragic than a jewel that never sees the light. This tendency only gets worse the more prestigious the house is. The bigger the family’s scale, the more it has to protect—and the more power it needs to do so.”
Lawrence rested his chin on one hand.
He had a rough idea of what Cedric was trying to say.
“In short, the person who gave me this wants to draw me into the Raynald family.”
“I think that’s quite likely. Honestly, with your skill, any respectable house would welcome you with both arms wide open. A mage forged into the likeness of a sword through real combat, where life and death hang by a thread… If you’ll forgive my boldness, I’d venture to say there may not be a mage in the Royal Academy or the magic towers as adept in actual battle as you are, Lawrence.”
“Flatter me all you like; nothing will come of it.”
It didn’t feel bad.
Still, the boy knew better than anyone that he still had a long way to go.
The point of comparison was simply different.
From the perspective of the Spirit World, Lawrence was nothing more than a pitifully insignificant being.
“So far I’ve only told you the good side of it, but what comes next may be a little unpleasant. I’d like to speak frankly, if you’ll allow me. Would that be all right?”
“So that’s what you really wanted to say.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“I’ll listen carefully if it’s advice from you, Cedric.”
Lawrence folded his hands together.
Seeing that he was ready to listen, Cedric opened his mouth.
“This is about noble society. As I mentioned earlier, the more powerful a house is, the more it wants greater influence because it faces just that much more opposition in political circles. The higher you climb, the more enemies you make—it’s the same everywhere. In other words, being backed by a powerful house also means becoming the target of another house’s displeasure.”
“You mean I’ve made enemies without even realizing it?”
“At least for anyone who understands what that sentence implies, yes.”
“……”
It wasn’t something to take lightly.
He didn’t know just how formidable the Raynald family truly was.
But even Lawrence, who had come from a remote village, had heard rumors about the Sword Saint and the Four Knights of the Promise.
“I wasn’t officially sponsored. This was just a gift. In a sense, it was a promise—but perhaps I shouldn’t be thinking about it so simply.”
“If I may say so carefully, I’d recommend hiding the watch as much as possible. To the eyes of an enemy house, it doesn’t really matter whether you were sponsored or not. What matters is that the Raynald family has taken an interest in you.”
For the first time, Lurizisa’s pocket watch felt heavy.
“Enemy houses will most likely try to win you over through persuasion at first. But if persuasion fails, I can’t say they won’t resort to harder methods. Letting a talent blossom on its own would only make the rival family stronger.”
“Sounds like I’ve gotten tangled up in something troublesome.”
“Power always comes with responsibility. Well, if I only talk about the bad, that’s no good either. There are good sides to it, too.”
As if trying to change the mood, Cedric’s voice brightened.
“Any house that is friendly with the Raynald family won’t be able to simply ignore you. If they can help it, they’ll do what they can to lend a hand, hoping to build another connection. For example, if you’re a Sworn Knight who received instruction from the Sword Saint, they’d support you without asking questions.”
“That doesn’t sound like good news to me. How am I supposed to know what might happen when I get tied up with nobles? I think I’d rather just hide the pocket watch like you said.”
“Yes. That’s why I told you.”
“It seems like I’m not the sort of person who ought to get entangled with noble society.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
At Lawrence’s question, Cedric smiled.
“I mean that you seek freedom without being tied down to one place.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The afternoon Cedric left Frang Village.
Lawrence was climbing the outskirts of the village with Luca.
“Be careful. The path isn’t very good.”
“Don’t worry. Places like this are… common in the alleys too.”
Though she spoke with admirable calm, her movements on the rough mountain trail were precarious.
One wrong step, and she nearly slipped more than once.
In the steeper stretches, she almost tumbled.
Would it have been better to leave her at the lodging after all?
Unable to watch any longer, Lawrence turned back and helped her.
“S-sorry.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t realize the road would be this rough either.”
Because they were close to the sea, the slope was slick.
And like at the monastery, there were patches of white droppings scattered everywhere.
It was all evidence of birds that lived by the sea, shitting wherever they pleased.
Filthy, messy, and slippery.
The sea had only seemed wondrous when he first saw it.
Now, because he wasn’t used to the way it affected everything around it, it was just inconvenient.
He’d misjudged it.
The feeling was almost exactly like the first time he had come across a swamp.
Fortunately, the forge Cedric had mentioned wasn’t far from the village.
After they had crossed two or three of the rougher slopes, the sound of a hammer striking an anvil came drifting down from the ridge ahead.
Tang! Tang!
“Looks like we’re almost there,”
Luca said, her expression brightening.
Life returned to her tired body.
She followed Lawrence up the final rise.
The forge Cedric had spoken of stood on the ridge, in a relatively wide open space.
At first glance, it didn’t seem different from any other forge.
There was no visible front door.
The forge was completely open to the outside, and the interior could be seen at a glance.
Smoke rose ceaselessly from the furnace.
Along the walls of the workbench were countless tools and fragments of ore.
Near the anvil sat a bucket of filthy water.
The hiss of bellows and the noise of quenching metal continued without pause.
In the choking stench, within the roar of fire born from iron, the men moved tirelessly.
They were short in build, with rough beards covering their faces and filthy hair.
Their fists were the size of melons, and their tightly closed mouths hinted at stubborn, unyielding pride.
The dwarves he had only heard about stood there in the flesh.