The Duke's Reward for Labor (2)
As if following the old saying about yanking an ox horn out in a single pull, the moment Alfred's dismissal order fell, Iona rose from his bent knee and immediately led the party to the treasure vault.
"You lot have no idea what a tremendous honor this is."
"Of course we do. It's the treasure vault of the Felwinter family, with all its long and storied history."
"It's even greater than you imagine. Look around! Don't you feel the gazes of the knights and soldiers escorting you?"
Just as Iona said, Karem had been feeling those piercing stares from above and behind ever since they left the office.
Iona, Catherine, and Mary were walking ahead of him, so they were out of the running. That naturally left the knights and soldiers as the owners of those stares.
"How could I miss them? They're staring with such intensity."
"Well, they're still young. You'll just have to put up with it."
Iona chuckled raggedly and stroked his beard.
But Karem found it hard to simply let it slide. These were the same kind of looks he sometimes felt whenever he stepped outside the tower. The emotion behind those gazes was pure jealousy—and of course that jealousy was aimed far more at him than at Catherine.
A young prodigy who had even made the tyrant of the kitchens, the head chef himself, gasp in admiration. The one who had rediscovered a forgotten spice and started a spicy craze throughout Winterhome. Hands that kept producing secret techniques no one else could match. And on top of all that, he had elevated the duke's renown in front of the Adobis envoys. Karem more than deserved the attention. Still, envy was envy.
"Hm? Boy, your steps have slowed. Tired already?"
"Walking this much is nothing."
Karem truly was not the least bit tired. A body tempered by daily kitchen work was not going to flag over a stroll.
"It's just… how should I put it. Feels like we're winding all over the place through staircases and corridors."
The surrounding stares were the real problem, but Karem shifted the blame onto himself. Speaking frankly would have been awkward, and what he said wasn't entirely untrue either.
"Boy, of course it does. This castle was built for defense in the first place."
"Defense. Looking down on the main keep's walls from up here would make it easy to rain fire one-sidedly, sure."
Karem recalled the view from the top of the Mage's Tower—people in the keep courtyard, Winterhome's walls, the near keep and the inner bailey. From Winterhome, which rose even higher than the Mage's Tower, you could probably see the outer walls and beyond.
"Thanks to that, Winterhome learns of every disturbance in Coldon and every threat beyond its borders faster than anyone. This old man finds it hard at his age, though. Come, come—we've still a long way to go, so let's pick up the pace."
Age might be the least of his problems, Karem thought, eyeing a certain belly that looked ready to burst.
At Iona's urging the party and their escorts quickened their steps. After a long stretch of winding through corridors and descending stair after stair, Iona finally stopped before a blank wall.
"Hmm, so today's entrance is here? You lot keep watch on the surroundings."
"Today's entrance? What do you mean by that?"
"The vault's entrance changes location every single day. Fortunately it ended up here today."
Karem let out a small sound of admiration. A vault whose entrance shifted daily—impressive. No, wait a moment.
"Iona, sir… was the reason we wound through all those stairs and corridors…?"
"Obviously, to find the vault entrance."
"You have to hunt for the door every time you want to enter the vault?"
"Well of course."
Karem's eyelids twitched at the security system that had thrown convenience out like so much trash. He had expected some kind of defenses—magical traps and devices like the ones supposedly installed in the Mage's Tower (though he had never seen them), or physical hazards such as spike pits, arrow traps, and crushing slabs. But a vault whose entrance simply wandered at random? And the method of finding it was pure brute force.
"Let's see… if it's this side, it should be around here somewhere…"
Apparently it wasn't only the entrance that moved. Iona ran his hands over the empty wall's edges and corners, muttering in mild frustration. After a long while of feeling along the stones, his fingers brushed the lowest brick in the bottom-right corner—and it glowed blue. Starting from that point the bricks folded inward one after another with heavy clunks, like dominoes, until they formed an arched passageway wide enough for several people to pass.
"A location that changes every day and a lock of sorts… Iona, sir, isn't this inconvenient?"
"What can I say? Every time this old man needs the vault he has to tramp all over the keep hunting for the right entrance. If luck is against him he has to go all the way down to the lowest levels of Winterhome. Ugh, it's enough to kill a man."
And the vault itself turned out to be utterly unworthy of the jealous stares Karem had endured while waiting. Beyond the arched entrance stretched only a gray corridor of empty walls, with no telling how far it ran.
"Uh, Lady Catherine… is my definition of a treasure vault wrong?"
"You're surprisingly slow on the uptake. Obviously magic is involved."
"Space larger on the inside than the outside?"
"Spatial expansion magic is the classic example."
"Like your magic pouch, Lady Catherine?"
The moment she spoke, Karem recalled the magic pouch he had seen once after arriving at Winterhome. Unfortunately Mary had thrown a fit about it reducing her workload, so he had never gotten to use it.
"We've only just reached the entrance, so hurry inside. Save the chatter for the walk."
Iona, already well into the passage, beckoned them inward while Karem and his employer lingered at the arch trading banter. The instant the two of them and the house elf stepped through, the bricks clunked outward again and sealed the entrance shut.
They walked a mysterious gray corridor that remained bright enough to make out every detail despite the total absence of light sources, until at last Karem reached their true destination.
"There. Consider it an honor to have entered the Felwinter vault."
Iona murmured the words with quiet pride, and Karem had to agree it was deserved.
What he had taken for dust on the floor was powdered gold and silver. Enormous sacks piled almost to the ceiling, thickly coated in gold and silver dust; gold and silver bars stacked like building blocks—those were only the beginning. Small statues carved entirely from gemstones, necklaces strung with pearls and sapphires, a gold ring set with a ruby the size of a thumb, a white-silver bracelet encrusted with diamonds, a wolf-shaped helmet finely wrought in gold and silver, a greatsword studded with massive jewels… Shelves and display cases packed the room, which was as large as a school athletic field, every surface filled without a single gap according to type. It was a sight that left Karem's mouth hanging open.
"Karem, junior. Your jaw is going to fall off."
"Mary… looking at this, you don't feel anything?"
"Well, it would be satisfying to tidy and clean, I suppose."
"Excuse me?"
Karem turned to stare at her without thinking. Her eyes were fixed solely on the gold and silver dust scattered across the floor as she smacked her lips. Of course. Her fairy mind ranked its interests strictly as work > bread, butter, milk > other foodstuffs > everything else. To her, gold and silver were probably little more than metal sculptures less useful than a cleaning rag.
Catherine, wearing an equally unimpressed expression, suddenly frowned. She had been surveying the ornaments—any one of which could easily buy a small fief—when she narrowed her eyes and turned to Iona.
"Every last piece is flashy and completely empty inside. Where's the real stuff?"
What on earth are you talking about, Lady Catherine? Karem and Mary both wanted to ask, but they were too stunned to do more than turn their heads.
"Mm, well… aside from the coin sacks and the gold and silver bars, everything here is just expensive luxury goods."
Iona, who had stepped slightly aside, looked guilty and turned his head to avoid her gaze. He had not been entirely free of the thought that if their eyes glazed over at this display, he could simply hand them something from here and call it done—before showing the truly valuable items, the magical tools and ancient relics.
Catherine latched onto the opening with wicked glee.
"What a petty little man."
"Now, now. 'Petty'? I was merely testing your eye."
"Even though there's a boy whose jaw has already hit the floor?"
"A subordinate's poor judgment reflects the master's failings, I suppose."
Iona drifted away like a feather on the wind, his face wearing the sly look of a crafty old raccoon. If someone falls for a temptation this cheap, that tells you exactly what kind of person they are, doesn't it? The words weren't wrong, but they still irritated Catherine; she snapped her head away.
"Karem, junior. I have no interest in gold and jewels, but it seems I didn't know myself as well as I thought."
"Isn't that normal? Anyone who doesn't go wide-eyed looking at this would be the strange one."
"Mmm. It's sudden, but Karem, junior—for the first time I'm feeling a little jealous—"
Catherine poked the dazed boy with spiteful little taps.
"Get your soul back, you. We're barely past the entrance; you can't afford to lose your head here! Hey! Take a lesson from your senior house elf standing right next to you!"
"Huh? Lose my head? I did no such thing."
"Wipe the drool off your mouth before you talk."
"Oh no!"
Then she turned to Mary.
"And Mary… hmm, you don't seem particularly interested."
"Contractor. I am a house elf. I am simply far too concerned about the reckless and disorderly state of this space."
"Hmm. If you like, I could choose something you want with my own selection rights."
Mary shook her head firmly.
"Don't come crying later."
Iona, who had been examining every corner of the room, nodded as if agreeing with the house elf.
"Well, the house elf is right—this place is a mess. And as Lady Catherine said, these aren't things that warrant that much concern."
He waved them farther in.
"Come this way. The real goods are deeper inside."
Iona led the party down a passage hidden behind the hills of gold- and silver-coin sacks. After a long walk the gold and silver dust no longer crunched underfoot, and a far larger, far more refined chamber opened before them.
Weapons on the shelves and display stands looked carefully maintained and ready for immediate use. Armor stands shaped like full human figures or partial torsos held various pieces of armor and ornaments, either singly or in complete sets.
The moment they entered, Catherine rapidly scanned the history and magic of every item that caught her eye, beginning with the nearest gauntlets, greatsword, and dagger. Only then did she smooth her furrowed brow and nod.
"Yes. This is more like it—worthy of the Felwinter family vault."
"Mm, the things kept in here definitely have a more refined quality."
Seeing them side by side, even Karem could sense the difference. The objects in the previous room had been excessive—typical nouveau-riche luxuries, flashy but useless. The pieces in this chamber were different. Elegance born of restrained splendor. Designs that looked decorative at a glance yet quietly considered the wearer's comfort. Above all, they did not tire the eyes. Frankly, they were a pleasure to look at.
Having finally seen true treasures that matched their outward grandeur, Catherine surveyed the room with an excited expression that suited the occasion.
Mary likewise looked around. Then she stuck out her lower lip in a pout of pure indifference.
"Not a speck of dust, and perfectly maintained. How boring."
"Huh? That's the exact same reaction you had before."
"Do I need a different one?"
Just what else could drive this house elf wild besides work and food? Karem wondered. Would it take a magic cleaning tool to make her eyes light up?
"—and beyond this, items of long tradition and history are kept in the first room on the left, while minor magical tools are stored in the room on the right. As for the rest—"
"What do you mean by 'minor' magic?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. A silver cup that turns any water poured into it into fruit juice, or a cleaning tool that transforms into ten different implements—"
"A transforming cleaning tool!"
Mary shot off toward the right-hand room like a dog chasing a flying bone.
"Didn't that girl just say with her own mouth that she had no interest in treasure?"
"She did indeed."