Rest (1)
Bloodied Veles, an officer of the Demon King's Army, had known a great deal of important information. That was why they set about torturing and brainwashing him to wring every scrap of it out of him.
While the army gathered intelligence on the Demon forces, we had to move on to Lebra Village exactly as planned. Departing a day later than scheduled meant I got to spend a steamy night with the widow, and the rest of the party could set out looking clean and rested.
Along the way the Hero got a chance to inspect the valley Bloodied Veles had been blocking. A narrow path ran between two sheer V-shaped cliffs, the entrance sealed with wooden stakes and spears driven into the ground. In daylight it was obvious: if they had simply held that choke point, ordinary soldiers would never have broken through.
"Why did they come out of there?"
"Someone must've waved a sword in their face. 'Get out here right now!' or something."
Lena tossed out the joke, and the Hero nodded in complete seriousness as he walked through. I shot Lena a sidelong glance, but she just hummed to herself and kicked a demon corpse that still hadn't been cleared away. The rotten head tumbled free and rolled across the ground.
Lebra Village was less a village than a sprawling town that had almost become a city. Every major trade route in the Kingdom passed through it, so it had grown prosperous almost by accident. The ground and terrain, however, were too poor to support proper walls, and so it had remained an incomplete settlement—or so the story went.
The makeshift walls thrown up for wartime proved the tale true. They looked so flimsy that a good shove might bring them down. The Hero ran a hand along the stone and nodded thoughtfully; Mille remarked that they reminded her of elven houses.
"Walls like these are sneakily hard to climb. Put any real weight on them and they collapse—makes a hell of a racket."
Lena offered the thief's appraisal. In high spirits we entered the town. The Hero unfolded a sheaf of papers and laid out the schedule ahead.
"Capturing that Demon officer turned out to be a huge windfall for the Kingdom's army. They need to revise the next operation based on the new intel, so we're to rest today and they'll assign our next destination tomorrow. This place has everything under the sun, so I figure we can loosen up and take it easy for once."
No one ever objects to rest. Lena whistled and nodded; Ashuria and Mille brightened at once. Mille seized the Hero's hand.
"Hero! Then let's go play at the market! I saw so many fun things earlier!"
Ashuria took the Hero's other hand and smiled.
"The Hero will accompany me to the church to offer prayers for the coming operation. You will come, won't you?"
The Hero pushed the two of them away with an awkward look.
"Sorry—I've got business with the baron who runs this town."
Both Mille and Ashuria looked disappointed, but neither pressed further. Whenever we entered a new town or city the Hero always paid courtesy calls on the local nobles or held serious talks with them. I had been told the Hero was just a country bumpkin who had spent life swinging a sword, yet somehow there was always something to discuss with aristocrats. I still couldn't figure it out.
Once the Hero vanished, I finished unpacking, sat in a chair, and watched the street outside. Being a bustling trade hub, the place was full of people in exotic clothes, and the goods piled on carts were every bit as colorful as the crowds. Barking vendors danced or played instruments to draw customers, or latched onto passersby with relentless pleas to look at their wares.
"Just take a look! Everything's cheap!"
"Finest goods right here!"
Simply watching the scene put me in a good mood. I stretched, shifted the chair into a sunnier spot, and closed my eyes. The clamor of the street, the rumble of cart wheels, the chatter from the floor below—all of it sank into darkness. Behind my eyelids the sunlight turned a deep orange, and I drifted off.
"Hey, mister. You asleep?"
A chill brushed my cheek and I opened my eyes. A cold bottle was rubbing against my face, ice water sloshing inside with a cheerful clink. Condensation beaded on the glass and made my throat ache with thirst. I stretched again and took the bottle.
The hawkers' cries had quieted and the foot traffic thinned. The sun that had hung in the east was now slanting low; I must have slept quite a while. I drank and looked at Lena.
"Something up?"
"The Hero says we should all eat together. Got meal tickets for a restaurant."
"Meal tickets?"
Had the baron handed out vouchers for a fancy place? I rubbed my temple and headed downstairs. The whole party was already gathered in front of the inn. Ashuria and Mille looked delighted at the prospect of lunch with the Hero; Lena was humming again.
The Hero spoke with a pleased expression.
"There was this fellow out front doing some kind of folk game. I played with him—turns out he was really good."
"Game?"
Lena's interest sparked at the word. The Hero nodded and continued.
"Yeah, a game. He sets out three cups and you guess which one has something under it. He was so skilled I lost a fair bit of money, but he said he was grateful I'd played with him and gave me these meal tickets."
I shot Lena a look. Everyone except the cheerfully smiling Hero had gone oddly stiff. Mille wore the face of someone searching for the right words; Ashuria made no effort to hide her displeasure. Lena spoke first.
"Oh my, that game sounds fun. Where is it? I wanna try too."
"Huh? Right out front. Not sure if he's still there."
"Wait here, Hero. I'll go clean him out and come right back."
Ashuria rose as if nothing were amiss.
"I shall step up to the room for a moment. I seem to have forgotten the knuckles I use when dining."
"Ah! I forgot the bow I use for eating too!"
"…For eating?"
The Hero started to ask, but Ashuria was faster; she laid a hand on my shoulder.
"Buy us time."
I nodded and sat across from the Hero. The moment we were alone the Hero grew strangely tense, eyes darting, fingers tapping the table.
"E-everyone left…"
"You said you were from the countryside, right?"
The Hero's shoulders twitched; an awkward laugh followed a nod.
"Huh? Oh—yes. Country boy. Spent all day swinging a sword out in the sticks, so I don't know much about the world."
"I see. I grew up in the country myself when I was little. Clean air, that sort of place."
"Ah… that must have been nice."
The Hero's eyes held more longing than agreement. I nodded and glanced around. Ashuria and Mille were descending the stairs with exaggerated slowness. I needed more time.
"What was the place you lived like?"
The Hero's gaze wandered as the story spun out.
"Um… the air was really good and the water was clear. Deer running around, mountain birds singing… Only Father, Mother, and I lived there, so I just swung my sword all day."
"I see. What sort of man was your father?"
"A fine man. Um… a woodcutter. Yes, an excellent woodcutter. The villagers always praised him for being such a good person."
"An excellent woodcutter—I'd like to meet him myself. I had a few woodcutter friends once. All of them had thick arms and bottomless thirsts. Did your father enjoy a drink?"
I kept nodding and kept the Hero talking. At this rate we would have all the time we needed.
"Come on! Come on! Put your money down and take it home!"
The shell-game man was in high spirits. Earlier that day a pretty, almost feminine knight in flashy clothes had let him clean out a fat purse; the take alone would keep him comfortable for a week. If every day brought luck like this, life would be perfect. He called out to the crowd, thinking a good day was the perfect time to pull in more marks.
"Wow, looks fun. Let me in."
A woman with a spider tattoo on her neck strolled up humming. The man brightened at the sight of a new customer—then his face froze when he saw the mark. He looked away. The woman chewed her gum with deliberate slowness, leaned right into his face, and smiled.
"What are you waiting for? Start."
"Ah… I-I'm closed for the day."
She stopped chewing, licked her lips, tilted her head, and locked eyes with him. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to look anywhere else.
"Closed? I watched you working just a minute ago."
"Th-that was the last round! My wrist's killing me…! T-today's over! Today is—!"
He reached to clear the cups from the table.
Thunk!
"Hieeeek!"
A sharp dagger split one cup clean in two and buried itself in the wood. The woman grinned.
"You're starting to piss me off. I said play. Don't you understand plain talk? Do the same little hustle you pulled on my friend—right here in front of me."
The image of the smiling, clueless knight flashed through the man's mind. He had taken the fellow for a soft country fool; he had never imagined such backup. He dropped to his knees.
"I-I'm sorry! I'll give the money back! It's all right here—I haven't spent a single coin! Please, spare me!"
The woman counted the coins with a satisfied look and spat her gum onto the ground.
"Nice when people listen. All right. Take care, mister. Don't let me run into you on the street again, yeah?"
"Y-yes! Yes!"
The moment she was out of sight he began packing in a frenzy. Instinct told him this kind of threat never ended with one visit. He had to leave the city as fast as possible if he wanted to keep breathing. He folded the table into a bag, wrapped his stake in a cloth, scanned the alleys, and hurried into a back street.
"Ghk—!"
A rope snared his neck and hauled him deeper into the alley before he could resist.
"Wh-who—! Mmph—!"
A heavy cloth was jammed into his mouth; arrows punched through both hands and pinned him to the wall. He tried to scream, but only muffled sounds filled the narrow space.
"Mmmph! Mmph!"
"Shh."
A black-haired, black-eyed nun slipped on her knuckles and stepped into his field of vision.
"God is listening. Be quiet."