The White Horse Cavalry
Ten days had passed since they left Tallen County.
They had ridden without rest. By now, even the misery of knotted muscles in his backside had begun to feel familiar.
Maintained roads appeared, then widened. The flow of people grew conspicuously denser. Wagons hauling goods streamed past without end, and escorts clung to every one of them, which only made the crowds look thicker still.
There are so many humans, kyu!
The princess seemed to have found a new pastime in watching all these different people.
She's right. Are all of them headed for Ahental Territory?
Once they passed a stretch of highway cutting through open fields, a blue mountain range came into view in the distance. At the foot of those mountains ran a long, sand-colored wall, and within it rose a towering inner citadel.
"Sir Ramang, from here on, we raise the family banner."
Ereb threw his chest out and rode to the front with all the pomp of a returning hero. Had he not just completed his mission with flying colors? As far as he was concerned, he had nothing to be ashamed of.
The Ahental Knights hung the banner from a spear shaft and raised it high. The flag bore the family's emblem: a raven. The one distinctive touch was the gemstone set in the raven's eye. The gem in Ereb's banner was a ruby.
"The raven is our family's symbol. Every member of the house has a different gem set in the raven's eye, so memorize them."
"A raven... is there a meaning to that?"
"Of course there is. House Ahental started with mining raw gemstones, then processing, crafting, and distributing them, generation after generation."
Ravens, the stories went, had a habit of snatching up anything that glittered. From that day on, a raven with a jewel in its eye had represented Ahental. It was an unusual choice for a culture that regarded the color black as an ill omen.
Somehow, a raven's caw and this young lord throwing a fit feel uncomfortably similar.
Ereb would have blown a gasket if he'd heard that.
"So the family started in mining."
"Well... more precisely, we started as a small trading house. Then the great-great-grandfather of the first family head happened to purchase a mine, and that's when we dove in for real."
Meaning they hadn't been nobles from the beginning.
"That look on your face. I know exactly what you're thinking. 'So they weren't originally nobles...' That's it, isn't it?"
"Was I that obvious?"
"Heh. At least have the courtesy to deny it. You're right, though — our house came from merchants. That's why the other nobles talk down to us as 'new money.'"
How had a merchant family transformed itself into a central noble house with real influence?
"House Ahental's influence isn't something you can dismiss with a word like 'new money.'"
"True enough. Still, some lunatics will find a way to tear down even a founding house."
The first family head had poured a fortune into the founding of the Asiris Kingdom. Naturally, he had been ranked among the founding contributors, granted a viscountcy, and bestowed the surname Ahental. That was the root of Viscount Ahental's house.
"It's like a tag that never comes off. It's not as if we even run the trading houses or the mines ourselves anymore..."
There was a faintly bitter edge to Ereb's voice.
The column halted before the gates of the city of Ahental. With that, every contract the Red Fox Mercenary Group had taken was complete.
Ayla faced the second young lord. Given everything that had happened before they entered the Forest of Resentment, there was a great deal to say. So much, in fact, that she spent a long moment just deciding where to start.
It was Ereb who spoke first.
"Captain Ayla. You've done well."
The mere fact that he hadn't called her "that captain wench" — the slur he'd always used — was a startling change. All of it was thanks to Messi's advice, but Ayla let herself believe, just for a moment, that he actually appreciated what she'd been through. The urge to snap at him once for old times' sake quietly died.
"...You as well, Young Lord. A lot happened, but the Red Fox Mercenary Group completed the contract successfully."
"I'll grant you that. I'll pay the contract fee in full. And on top of that, the success bonus I promised."
Ramang, standing beside him, handed over a pouch. Ayla checked the contents, and her face flushed with heat.
Subtracting the two-gold deposit, eight gold was the exact remaining balance. But there were ten gold inside. He'd thrown in a full two gold extra. Twelve gold was the kind of fee a large mercenary company commanded. If word got out that the Red Fox Mercenary Group — barely clinging to the bottom of the mid-sized ranks — had pulled off a job of that caliber, their standing in the trade would change overnight.
Ayla's eyes welled with emotion.
"This didn't start as a good relationship... but someone tied it up nicely for us, so I'm satisfied. Young Lord."
She said it looking at Messi.
"Well, I'll apologize too. I didn't bring you along with pure intentions... I'm just glad it ended well."
Ereb glanced at Messi as he said it. Messi knew exactly why.
Without me, both of them would have been wiped out in the Forest of Resentment...
"If you want... when I have a chance to recommend a decent mercenary company, I'll put in a word for the Red Fox."
"No thanks. I've had my fill of noble-house contracts."
"Hah! Now I feel bad."
"I'm kidding... Ask me when we're actually qualified. Thanks to you, Young Lord, I learned what happens when you take a job that's way above your station. There's a reason only the big companies take noble-house contracts."
Messi let out a quiet laugh. She'd suffered so much on this job that the sincerity in her voice hit him square in the chest.
"We're going to shore up our foundations first. That's the right call, isn't it, Messi?"
"The traitor should be out in the open by now. Use this chance to clean house for good."
"Obviously. I'm going to show him hell."
A cold wind passed through Ayla's eyes. She'd nearly died. The reaction was only natural.
Condolences to Vice-Captain Noas.
"Well then, Messi. Let's see each other again sometime. If you ever have business in Crendol, where our headquarters is, get in touch right away."
Messi nodded. True to a woman who'd spent long years as a mercenary, she turned away without a hint of lingering regret.
That's not true, kyu. She's really sad to go, kyu.
...Is that so?
The body doesn't lie. The princess had read the chemical compounds Ayla secreted when she was sad.
Gaston was the same. He told Messi to come find him if he ever thought about becoming a mercenary — said they'd make a hell of a swordsman duo. Messi declined, firmly.
He exchanged brief farewells with the rest of the mercenaries in turn. Bettis Huang was among them. Even as he gave Messi a light farewell hug, Bettis's mind never stopped working.
Why would a prince of another race, who'd been living quietly on the frontier, come out into the human world...? Something smells off. Is he even a prince in the first place? He says he is, but there's no way to confirm...
"You remember what I told you before?"
"The Huang Merchant Group is in Lester, right? I haven't forgotten the invitation."
"Haha, that's right. Nothing bad will ever happen to you. The Huang Merchant Group doesn't forget a debt of gratitude. Whatever help you need, just say the word."
He was laying down a thread that could be picked up naturally later. As far as Bettis was concerned, that alone meant he'd done his job well as a low-ranking informant for the Sky Castle.
He'd first appeared as an extraordinary healer, then as a rare guide who knew the Forest of Resentment better than anyone, then as a retainer of House Ahental, and now he claimed to be a prince of his people... Bettis found himself curious what face the man would show next, given time.
If he could position himself as the connecting link to a figure like that, it might even put a positive mark on his personnel evaluation inside the Sky Castle. He couldn't stay a low-ranking informant sending in solo reports forever. Bettis could only hope this connection would be the thread that pulled him out of that station.
After seeing the Red Fox off, the column passed through the gates of the city of Ahental.
The soldiers didn't even bother with an inspection once they saw the raven banner. If anything, they stiffened at the sight of Ereb's face and snapped to attention.
Is the discipline that tight... or is this young lord just that much of an unholy pain in the ass? Hard to say.
Whether or not he knew Messi was thinking that, Ereb swaggered along as if he were strolling through his own front yard. The city of Ahental was developed on a scale that Tallen County — and every other territory they'd passed through on the way — couldn't even begin to match.
"Well? You won't regret following me now. This city is our family's territory. Impressed? Are you impressed?"
"It's splendid."
"...Not a shred of soul in that."
It couldn't be helped. Messi had lived in the metropolis of Seoul. No matter how developed a territory was, it couldn't hold a candle to Gangnam in the twenty-first century. Ereb had been sure that this time, at last, he'd see Messi look genuinely impressed. He was a little disappointed.
Messi picked up on that, so he pointed at the inner citadel in the distance and put a note of wonder in his voice. It was a performance, but Ereb didn't catch it.
"Is that House Ahental's inner citadel? It's extraordinarily beautiful."
"Ah... oh, right. That castle was built by Little People craftsmen. The first family head spent a fortune on it!"
What followed was a flood of family pride. Messi had only wanted the first verse, but it rolled on into boasts about the city, then the ancestors, and on and on.
They were riding down the main avenue through the heart of the city when it happened.
"Young Lord! Look over here!"
"It's the Undying Knight, Sir Ramang!"
The city of Ahental was in an uproar over the second young lord's return. Some cheered Ereb's name; others called out to members of the knight order. Ramang's name came up a great deal as well.
The townsfolk didn't know the specifics of the young lord's mission, but the mere fact that he'd returned in success filled them with pride. That was how deep their sense of belonging to House Ahental ran. It was proof the family governed the territory well. Passing adventurers and merchants watched the scene with open curiosity.
There was a side story, too. Messi's appearance stood out so sharply that simply riding beside the young lord was enough to draw every eye.
"Why is an other-race riding with Young Lord Ereb?"
"His hair and eyes are black."
The comments drifted in here and there. He'd expected as much, so they didn't bother him. At first they stared the way people stare at a monkey in a zoo. Then they saw the crest on Messi's chest, and every face shifted to the same look of surprise.
An other-race wearing the crest of Tallen County has returned to Ahental with the second young lord!
The city's people were always thirsty for fresh news, and the rumor spread with startling speed. By the time Messi and Ereb reached the inner citadel, a great crowd was trailing after the column like ducklings.
And at the citadel entrance, a host of retainers stood waiting. At the very front was a powerfully built old man.
A rare joy settled over Ereb's face. He dismounted and walked up to the old man. The old man bowed his head at the sight of him.
"You have arrived, Young Lord."
"Butler Grotein. It's been a while."
The old man called Grotein was built far too powerfully for his age. A well-developed chest, trapezius, and lats stretched his suit jacket to the bursting point. His lower body... went without saying.
"Still hitting the weights hard, I see."
"For me, it is no different from breathing."
"So, you came out because you heard I was arriving? Did Father tell you to?"
Ah. Only then did Messi understand why Ereb had looked so happy. This butler Grotein was clearly a heavyweight in the household — a real power, and the family head's right-hand man. The fact that he'd come all the way out here meant the father was looking forward to Ereb's results. That would be cause for joy.
Messi was about to let himself hope a little, too — then Grotein's voice came, perfectly calm.
"We have been waiting out here for two hours now."
"Have you? That's a lot of trouble you've gone to!"
Ereb, missing the point entirely, was about to praise the old man when Messi caught his sleeve and quietly held him back. At first Ereb didn't understand why Messi was stopping him. Then the meaning of Grotein's words sank in, and his face went red.
We were already out here preparing to receive a different guest before you arrived.
That was what the old man had said, wrapped in courtesy so as not to give offense.
"W-who's coming that you'd all be standing out here like this?"
"The First Young Master, my lord."
"My brother...."
Ereb ground his teeth without meaning to. Grotein sighed at the sight.
"You have come a long way. The family head has been most curious about the results all this time. Had you only sent word ahead, we would have been waiting for you, Young Lord — so please, do not take it to heart."
"...Take it to heart? I wouldn't."
He said he wouldn't. The resentment clinging to every word said otherwise.
"Did my brother send word ahead?"
"Ah. There he comes now."
The old man simply talked past Ereb's question and said what he meant to say. Most likely the First Young Master hadn't sent any notice at all, and they were waiting for him anyway. That was why they'd been standing outside for two hours, wasn't it?
At the old man's words, Ereb, Messi, and the Ahental Knights all turned their heads.
In the distance, a company of snow-white cavalry was riding unhurriedly down the avenue. They were retracing the very road Ereb and Messi had just taken, as if they had been waiting for this exact moment. It made Ereb's party look like an advance guard, and the newcomers like the main force just now returning home.
Messi's eyes sharpened.
This... is a staged performance.
It reeked of design far too strongly to be coincidence.
Ereb's party, soaked in trail dust after a long journey home. The First Young Master's White Horse Cavalry, without a speck of dirt on them, as if they had just set out. And on top of that, fully armed — a look calculated to seem both lofty and formidable.
How would the two columns look to the people of the territory? Naturally, the First Young Master's side would look like the real thing.
And in the midst of it all, one man approached on a snow-white horse, dressed in dazzling gold braid and crests, a white cloak streaming behind him. He was the kind of man whose presence could command a space so completely that even a noisy crowd fell silent of its own accord. The many townsfolk who had been chasing after the second young lord were, before they knew it, looking only at him.
That man was the mountain Messi would have to overcome.