Chapter 120: The Way of the Desert (5)
Chapter 120: The Way of the Desert (5)
Tripol was a vast city with barren wilderness before it and the blue sea behind.
Year-round currents ideal for navigation made the sea a crucial hub of maritime trade.
Desert trade routes stretched away on the landward side, a precious crossroads linking Gord, Roman, and the small kingdoms of the continent's southwest.
Most of the countless goods flowing into Bonyard passed through Tripol as well.
"Anyone who makes a living from trade passes through here at least once in their life. You could call it a holy land for merchants."
The recruiting officer smiled proudly at Eugene's expression as he looked over the city.
Mountains and jungle blocked northern Samur. The terrain was harsh enough, but it was also crawling with monsters like the rakshas they had fought two days earlier.
If one wished to avoid that, they had to land on the Sicilian peninsula at the southern tip of Roman.
But reaching Gord, western Roman, or the small kingdoms of the southwest from there required a long overland journey. In short, there was no real substitute for Tripol.
'I can name a high price, then.'
Eugene doubted negotiations would break down. He could tell at a glance how much wealth the city must have accumulated.
More importantly, several merchant caravans were camped across the broad open ground before the city that would normally have been clear.
"Have they all been held up because the trade routes have grown dangerous?"
"That is correct. The trade routes leading to our city were once the safest in all Samur..."
"Now even a two-day journey has become perilous."
The recruiting officer nodded grimly, while Eugene saw the waiting caravans as piles of money.
If companies of that size were this restless, demand for mercenaries was bound to skyrocket.
When a merchant company that had suffered a raksha attack appeared pulling tattered wagons, the waiting merchants grew fearful as well.
They could feel for themselves that the monsters had finally extended their reach to the city's doorstep.
"The sun is fairly strong."
Eugene placed wide-brimmed straw hats on both Varda and Homi.
"Thank you. But when did you prepare these?"
"While my men were busy buying food from merchants along the road."
The face of the woman who had quietly slipped into their ranks grew warm with embarrassment.
-This is camel meat. A specialty you can only taste in Samur.
-Oh ho.
-Beautiful young lady. Please try this as well.
-This is snake...
-Delicious snake.
-Mm.
Varda liked meat. The exotic grilled dishes the Samur food merchants introduced were irresistible to her.
"W-wait! That tickles! I can do it myself..."
"Hold still. They won't go through the holes otherwise."
As Eugene's hands gently smoothed Varda's long ears, she squirmed.
The straw hats were made for humans, so some adjustment was necessary to place them on an elf. Eugene slipped Varda's ears into the holes he had pre-cut in both sides of the brim.
If she wore it for a long time without such modifications, her ears would be pressed down and grow painful.
"...You're skilled at this."
"I've imagined this scene many times."
Eugene smiled brightly as he looked at the tips of her ears poking out adorably through the yellow straw hat.
"Because the Wandering Castle changes locations so quickly, we can get complacent about preparing for local conditions."
"I'll have to pay more attention to that. As soon as we enter the city, I should buy mosquito netting too. There must be plenty of jungle mosquitoes and venomous desert insects around here."
Varda nodded at his practical remark.
Meanwhile, Homi was watching the passing camels alongside the tribal warriors.
The camel Eugene had received as a gift when he first took up his post at North Fork was a pet breed, small of frame and cute. By contrast, those passing by here were the large, robust breeds used for transport and combat.
True to Homi's tomboyish nature, she was much more interested in the camels striding powerfully under their riders.
"Young Squire, if you keep looking at them like that, we'll get jealous."
"Can you really scout properly on those gangly things?"
The tribal warriors, as a people of horsemen, seemed to have had their competitive spirit stoked.
They already liked Homi because she was Eugene's squire and a capable scout.
On top of that, as battles grew more frequent, her skill as a mounted archer had blossomed fully, and they had even come to regard her with something akin to respect.
"..."
Homi was not used to that kind of affection. She smiled awkwardly and tugged down the brim of her hat.
"Are you all holding up all right?"
The dark elves had primarily operated in Roman and were fundamentally children of the forest. They seemed ill-matched with the desert in many ways.
"No problem. Our bodies are naturally tough."
"A little sunlight like this won't bother us. Worry about the humans instead."
The tribal warriors raised their dark-skinned forearms and laughed. They were not shedding a single drop of sweat.
Come to think of it, dark-elven skin color was also influenced by melanin or something similar. If anything, they should have been more resistant to a desert climate than humans, not less.
"I'm perfectly fine. I may not look it, but I'm a proper warrior."
Cassandra gave Eugene a peculiar look as he put a hat on her too.
"I just thought it would suit you."
"I can hardly refuse that kind of consideration."
Cassandra inclined the brim of her hat slightly as she offered a gesture of courtesy.
She carried the blood of two powerful houses. Eugene always made a point of looking after her to some degree.
Fortunately, Cassandra did not seem to dislike the attention.
At the city entrance, warriors stood on ladders hammering monster heads onto tall wooden stakes.
THUNK! THUNK!
Each hammer blow drove a head another half handspan down the stake with a grotesque scraping sound. The blood-soaked stake burst out the other side, smeared with brain matter.
Raksha, orc, lizardman, and all sorts of other monster heads were mounted there.
Eugene rode his horse past them and looked up with interest.
"It is a measure to reassure the caravans."
"Every country has its own customs, doesn't it? I don't think badly of it, so you can relax."
The Recruiting Officer had apparently worried that it would appear a barbaric practice in the eyes of Eugene, a noble from Roman.
"What is that?"
Where Eugene pointed, a warrior was hammering a small corpse onto a wooden stake.
Rather than cutting off the head, they had driven the stake from the anus through to the mouth. It gave the feeling of seeing a suckling pig on a spit.
At first he thought they were impaling a child, but a closer look showed an unmistakable monster. Its lean, muscular body carried not an ounce of fat, and its teeth were as sharp as a piranha's.
"One of the small-folk. The nightmare of Samur's northern jungles. They normally stay in their own territory, but lately they've been expanding farther south. I don't know what is happening to the world."
Inside the city, various mercenaries came and went. Numerous knights who seemed to have come hoping to seize an opportunity or make a name for themselves were also visible.
The recruiting officer guided Eugene to the city magistrate.
"Welcome. I've heard of the All-Conquering Knight's fame from merchants out of Bonyard. It is an honor to meet you."
He might have been in his late thirties at most, even with a generous estimate. He was a man very young to occupy such an important post. He clasped Eugene's hands in both of his own and welcomed him warmly.
"...?"
Eugene, puzzled by the overly familiar attitude, could soon understand the reason.
"Thanks to you, Sir Eugene, I was able to remove a corrupt man who was eating away at the city's safety."
Among the guests freed after Eugene's forces swept the slaver hideout was the magistrate of Tripol.
Having been caught up in an unexpected disaster and returning in a beggar's state, he had been defenselessly beaten down by his political rivals in the city.
It was already a situation where everyone had grasped, through the 'other guests,' where the magistrate had been and what sort of treatment he had received.
After a harsh interrogation, it came to light that the former magistrate had taken bribes to protect illegal slavers.
Thus, the former magistrate ascended the gallows, and the current magistrate—his ambitious former rival—had been newly appointed.
Eugene was not only the powerful mercenary commander who would drive out the city's threats but also the benefactor who had aided the magistrate's rise to success.
"Tripol welcomes you, Sir Eugene. Please make yourself at home during your stay."
"Thank you. Then I'd like to discuss the contract."
"Everything has already been prepared."
SNAP!
The magistrate snapped his fingers, and his adjutant brought over a contract prepared in advance. The terms could hardly have been better, whether in pay or deductions for unit expenses.
"I promise you the best treatment my authority can provide."
"...Impressive."
Even as Eugene signed the contract, his expression remained bemused.
To think an expedition meant to protect the pride of the loyal Black Hand House would ripple outward into this kind of butterfly effect.
The magistrate had risen to high office very quickly and needed someone dependable. What he was offering Eugene now amounted to a kind of bribe.
Once the formal contract was signed, Eugene felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
Whenever he operated outside the Wandering Castle, his mercenaries' wages drained away simply with the passage of time. Now the city would foot the bill instead.
Every day, mercenaries and adventurers visited the city, and a few days later they were given their missions and left.
Some of them would no doubt be left as nothing but bones in the desert or jungle, but others would return bearing precious information and receive a hefty pouch of gold coins.
Eugene took his warriors and visited the horse market.
-Magistrate, I have a favor to ask.
-Anything.
-I'd like priority in the local warhorse trade. Would that be possible?
-Leave it to me. If it makes the city's strongest fighting force even stronger, I'm all for it.
Negotiating trade privileges lay beyond the magistrate's jurisdiction, but the distribution of strategic goods was something over which he could exert influence.
SNORT!
Homi's warhorse Sandy snorted in greeting at the horses carrying a scent like her own.
"Ah, I told you that one is already reserved!"
"Reserved for royalty or some great noble?"
"Well, no, but..."
"Then you can be flexible. Can't you see the magistrate's letter of recommendation?"
"Oh my!"
Led by House merchants, the tribal warriors greedily inspected warhorses throughout the market. No breed could match Samur desert horses over rough ground like sand and mud.
Supply was limited and sales restricted, so they seemed intent on stocking up while they had the chance.
They bargained passionately, ready to spend every coin they had saved during their mercenary careers if necessary.
"Hey! Did you rent the whole shop? There are other people here..."
"What."
"Ah, no, it's just..."
"What. Speak up."
The other merchants were too intimidated by the dark elves to protest. Faced with an assassin's killing intent and a mercenary's ferocity at once, they simply froze.
Eugene also granted free time to his other subordinates. As they were conducting operations in an unfamiliar environment, they needed to wander the local area as much as possible and acclimate to the atmosphere. They could also enjoy some sightseeing at the same time.
SIZZLE.
The hiss of hot oil and rich savory smells filled the market.
The city was bustling, and given the climate, fried dishes had gained immense popularity.
There was everything from familiar fried fish, shrimp, and chicken to more adventurous fare such as lizard, snake, and local rodents.
"Castle Lord."
"What is it?"
As Eugene approached a food stall out of curiosity, Cassandra stopped him.
"Fried food is considered low-class fare for commoners here."
"I didn't know that."
Cassandra knew the local culture well. She had operated in Samur ahead of the Clan while searching for a place where her people could settle.
Just as she said, none of the people buying fried food appeared to be nobles or knights.
And this was a fairly prosperous district. The customers were laborers, sailors, mercenaries, and farmers.
"You'll meet the city nobles later, and they may use something this trivial to find fault with you. What the Castle Lord did at the slaver hideout did not earn gratitude from everyone."
"So unlike the magistrate, some of them may hold a grudge."
"Politics is always like that, but Free City politics is especially petty."
Her violet eyes, gazing at the municipal building situated high in the city, narrowed.
"They'll seize on the smallest thing and peck at you over it. The rights the Castle Lord wants are substantial, so it's best to be careful even about minor details."
Cassandra gestured, and two of the warrior women serving as her escort approached.
"But fried food is delicious. How could anyone give up that rich flavor?"
Cassandra lifted the brim of her hat slightly and smiled at Eugene.
Following Cassandra's instructions, the warrior women went to the stall and began to load up on each type of fried food.
"The city nobles are honest about their appetites too. They call fried food vulgar, but enjoy it in private. They have appearances to maintain, so they send servants to buy it for them."
"Or they hide their identity and eat it in secret, like those people over there."
"Hehe."
Where Eugene pointed, men with their hoods pulled low were lining up in front of a stall.
Though they had wrapped themselves up somewhat, it was easy to perceive that they were well-trained knights. They looked to be impoverished knights who could not afford to keep servants or squires.
"Eat it while it's hot. Fried food isn't as good once it cools."
"I know that well enough."
"Ah! You eat that one bones and all."
Eugene bit into the steaming fried lizard. The bones crunched pleasantly between his teeth, and a rich savory flavor filled his mouth.
But in contrast to the peaceful atmosphere of the city, dark clouds were approaching from the far side of the sky.
They were not rain-laden storm clouds. They were arid clouds that seemed somehow imbued with an evil energy.
Eugene's instincts told him the next battle was not far away.
He bought more arrows and throwing spears for the heavy cavalry, adjusted saddles for the newly acquired desert warhorses, and stocked up on dried provisions seasoned with spices.
And Eugene's intuition was not wrong.
"Hnnnngh..."
"Ghaaah..."
More and more wounded began appearing among the merchant caravans arriving from the desert.
Most had ordinary cuts, tears, and fractures, but some grievously wounded people had exposed bone. Great chunks of flesh were simply gone, as though something had taken a huge bite out of them.