Chapter 55: The Knight's House (1)
Chapter 55: The Knight's House (1)
A few days later, Varda, who had been watching the sky, approached Eugene.
"It would be best to stay in that village visible over there today."
"Isn't it too early?"
It was only late afternoon, and stopping the march so soon felt like a waste.
"Tonight is one of the two nights of the year when a lunar eclipse occurs. It is a time when the power of magic becomes highly unstable. Those like myself do well to refrain from going out and rest."
"I see."
Eugene himself might manage, but for Varda the sorceress, he followed her counsel.
The village was quite large and frequented by many travelers, so it had a sizable inn.
"We have a large party! Make room!"
The owner, who had been smoking outside the inn, called excitedly into the building. A woman who was presumably his wife answered from inside; apparently the place was family-run.
"Welcome. Welcome to the Knight's Rest."
"A fine name for an inn."
"Hehe. Travelers coming and going from the House of Boundary Knights stop by often, you see."
The owner pointed toward a wooden castle not far from the village. He looked as proud of the place as if it were his own home, likely due to a symbiotic relationship with it.
"It is a knight-training institution with two hundred years of history. Even children of prestigious families come here to train."
Defeat in family politics, disillusionment with the battlefield, injury and age, the deaths of their children.
For all manner of reasons, knights turned their backs on the world and retired. In Roman, such men had a tradition of establishing knightly houses where they took disciples and passed on what they knew.
It was to pass on their unfulfilled dreams or to prevent the skills they had spent a lifetime honing from dying out. This place was of a fairly considerable size.
"We'll all be lodging here. Meals will be at individual discretion, so take orders separately."
"Understood."
The innkeeper beamed a broad smile at the mercenaries filing in. Even if these men stayed only a few days, it would amount to a week's worth of business.
"Sir Knight. It seems we must find separate quarters for the lady sorceress and the young squire."
The mercenary captain reported after quickly checking the second floor.
"What's the matter?"
"The three private rooms are already full, they said."
The inn's second-floor lodging was one large communal hall, an open space like a public bathhouse where travelers lay scattered about.
"It would be a little... improper to have the two of them sleep somewhere like that."
He knew as well as anyone that Eugene was a commander who bunked and ate with his men to keep a constant watch on the troop situation.
But Varda was a noblewoman, and Homi was as dear to him as a daughter regardless of status. He wanted the two of them to have comfortable sleeping quarters.
It was then that men in light armor and bearing swords approached.
"Pardon the intrusion. We have come down from the House of Boundary Knights."
The man at the head introduced himself as a senior knight.
"I am Eugene of House Meyer."
"Eugene! Are you the All-Conquering Knight of Bonyard?"
"It is."
"It is an honor to meet you."
A house of knights had to keep itself well informed.
They had to monitor the circumstances of their patrons and seek out decent outside commissions, all while maintaining distance from nobles who sought to pull their martial strength into political power struggles.
Setting all that aside, a place where knight trainees gathered could not help but be alive with rumors about a famously rising young knight.
"We saw a large number of mercenaries enter the village. We came down out of concern they might cause trouble."
"A fine knightly spirit."
"God has repaid our concern with a fortunate meeting. We would like to host you at our residence."
The mercenary captain looked pleased. A knightly house would be far more comfortable than the inn, and refusing such an honorable invitation would be awkward.
Even as he accepted the invitation, Eugene gave the mercenary captain one instruction.
"See to it the men are absolutely not fed perpetual stew. You know this, yes?"
"Of course."
Perpetual stew was a pot dish found at almost every village inn. Travelers tossed whatever ingredients they had into it, creating a miscellaneous porridge that simmered indefinitely.
Fish heads, chicken bones, cabbage scraps, potatoes, wild greens, freshwater clams, flour, even unidentifiable fat—every imaginable thing floated in a hellish-looking mess.
Yet it was cheap, and the broth drawn from all those bones was surprisingly decent. Thanks to that, it was popular among cash-poor mercenaries and travelers.
"Boiling it thoroughly doesn't make everything safe. The toxins that cause food poisoning still remain."
It was, of course, absurd fare to Eugene, who desired a modern supply system. Bacteria died from the heat, but one still ingested the toxins the bacteria had emitted.
"The men's palates have all long since become too refined to even glance at it."
"There is an advantage to always feeding them well."
"Those stricken by stomachache or vomiting have vanished since serving under you, Sir."
Respect was not the only reason his men readily followed Eugene's meticulous rules. They could feel for themselves how much healthier they had become under his command.
The mercenary company commander saw off the departing Eugene and was just about to step into the malodorous inn.
PATTER-PATTER-PATTER.
In a flash, Homi came running up.
"Did you forget something?"
Homi handed over a pouch of medicine from her bosom. It was a repellent for bugs, including bedbugs.
The mercenary captain smiled warmly as he watched Homi wave and then hurry after Eugene.
"Haat!"
On entering the wooden castle, trainees were in the training yard, locked in duels with wooden swords.
CLOP-CLOP! CLOP-CLOP!
A mounted trainee raced along the course and drove a spear into a straw dummy's chest.
THUD!
"Ow!"
An instructor roared in the face of a trainee who had been hit by non-lethal bolts and fallen during a melee drill.
"You wretch! Haven't I always told you to keep your wits about you? There is nothing more fearsome on the battlefield than a blind arrow. Fools who trust only in hot blood and courage and fight are the ones who die dog's deaths from a bolt fired by some common soldier."
CRASH!
On the area spread with sand, grappling training was underway. A muscular instructor hooked a trainee's leg, threw him down, and wrenched his arm. He shoved a wooden dagger into the exposed armpit.
"Ow! Easy!"
"See that? You dig in like this. Even a man bundled in layers of armor cannot protect his armpit. Put a hole there and nobody survives. Forget the idea that every fight has to be settled blade against blade. There are plenty of men better armored and better with a sword than you lot."
Elsewhere, an old man in a scribe's robes was teaching emergency first aid.
"When the entrails protrude, you must not move rashly. Do not simply push them back in; you must rinse them in lukewarm water and slowly ease them back."
It was a lesson on treating a gash across the abdomen that had been demonstrated using straw rope. Several boys wore terrified faces at the sight.
"It might be worthwhile to seek a knight here."
Varda cast her eyes around, her expression holding a note of admiration.
This place did more than simply train swordsmanship in the orthodox tradition. It comprehensively taught survival methods and the tricks of killing stronger foes.
"The swordsmanship looks good too. They train so practically that the students could be thrown straight into battle."
"They are young knights just about to step into the world, so your coin purse will know peace as well."
"Truth be told, that is what pleased me most."
The two reached a large building as they spoke quietly. Unlike the others, it was an imposing structure built of stone.
"Our master is within. There is a graduation trial today, you see."
The senior knight pointed at the building.
"Upon graduation, does one receive knighthood?"
"That is correct. As a trainer of knights, our master holds the right of investiture without any restrictions."
"A tremendous honor."
"It is thanks to the great merits our senior knights earned long ago in suppressing a large-scale rebellion. It is a privilege granted by the Roman royal family."
Among roughly a hundred people—trainees, instructors, and servants included—Largo effectively possessed the authority of a lord. Of course, that likely meant the path to investiture was correspondingly harsh.
Inside the building, several dozen men surrounded a large dueling ring.
CLANG!
Within it, two trainees had training swords locked and were clashing, but the gap in their skill appeared vast.
THUD!
"Agh!"
The trainee on the left took a solid hit, lost his sword, and collapsed. Two other men were sprawled nearby, apparently having lost in the same fashion.
"He has passed. The final trial is to defeat, in succession, three trainees selected by the instructors."
The senior knight explained.
The victor on the right removed his helmet. He was a handsome young man with close-cropped hair and something of a mamba-like air about him. He knelt respectfully before his master.
"Haind. Could you not have shown a little more mercy with your hand? One of your skill could easily have managed it."
"This is the final rite of passage for the Boundary Knights. Challenger and gatekeeper alike must face it prepared to risk their lives. Otherwise, both the trial and those who pass it will grow weak."
The young man called Haind had a manner that, apart from his respect for his master, showed he would not compromise his convictions.
"That man is Largo, head of the House of Boundary Knights and master to everyone here."
Just as the senior knight introduced him to Eugene, Largo, too, recognized Eugene's arrival.
He had the sharpness to notice the slightest change among a crowd. Though his body had aged, his spirit remained like a honed blade.
"I am Largo, the one who teaches these men. I welcome the visit of an honored guest."
"Eugene Meyer. I have been privileged to witness an honorable trial. My thanks to the gods."
A stir of surprise and whispered murmurs spread among the men who had been spectating.
"I know it is discourteous on first meeting, but there is one favor I would ask of you, Sir."
"Please, speak freely."
Largo pointed to the young man who had just passed the trial.
"This is my disciple Haind. He is the second candidate-knight this year to pass all the courses."
'Winter is nearly here and he's only the second.'
Eugene realized the training curriculum here was far more severe than he had assumed.
"Everyone here talks about you, Sir—trial by combat, monsters, field battles, sieges. Seeing a sword that has experienced a knight's entire life in compressed form would be tremendous motivation for them. Would you please spar with Haind?"
If only to save Largo face, it would be difficult to refuse. It was no hardship, and this too could become a useful connection.
"Understood. I shall accept this honorable contest."
With Homi's help, Eugene removed his armor and entered the dueling ring. He borrowed and equipped a training sword and protective gear from a trainee.
"It is an honor to cross swords with you, Sir."
Haind prepared without hesitation despite his master's sudden instruction. If anything, his fighting spirit burned all the brighter.
"As a fellow warrior, I cannot refuse a challenge that comes to me."
"Please speak casually to me. I am not yet a knight, only a trainee who has not even been invested."
Haind's technique was rough, but his speech was courteous and he saw his own position clearly. He took great pride in the order and was highly skilled.
That type was difficult even for an instructor to handle. When trouble arose, he met criticism with a coherent set of convictions, making him hard to scold.
"As your junior, I will make the first move."
'Junior, he says.'
Eugene had been a knight for less than half a year, and Haind looked several years older. But among knights, achievements were rank.
Eugene countered the sword rushing toward him, using very, very, very careful control of his strength.
Some time later, Haind lay spread-eagled, bruised in several places and drenched in sweat.
Several times, Haind's sword had been deftly deflected and Eugene's blade had stopped just before a vital point.
Several times, overwhelming force sent his sword flying away with a CLANG!
Several times, techniques he had never seen before knocked him flat, threw him, or sent him sprawling.
In both power and technique, he had been thoroughly crushed.
"Those martial techniques... what on earth?"
"A style I've never seen. To reverse the rushing force so easily like that..."
"Deflecting a sword like that..."
Voices of admiration and puzzled discussion rose all around them. Eugene's strength was impressive enough, but many of the combat techniques were entirely new to them.
"I have lost."
Haind spoke with a relieved expression.
The only reason he had not broken a single bone was that Eugene had taken extraordinary care to control his strength.
'He is the one I covet most here. I want to take him with me somehow.'
As with athletes, the cheapest time to recruit someone was before he became famous and his market value rose. Eugene had been considering hiring a knight, and now the perfect bargain had appeared.
Largo spoke to Haind as the young man struggled to his feet.
"The investiture ceremony will be held tomorrow. Withdraw now and rest."
"Yes, Master."
"Dismissed!"
Largo clapped his hands twice, and everyone withdrew, returning to their respective tasks.
"To invite you here and then draw you into a fight on my whim — once more I offer my apology and my thanks."
"It was a good experience for me as well."
"Haind, too, will have realized the world is wide and full of strong men."
"I wonder. Having faced him, he didn't seem like the type of knight given to pride at all."
Largo held a faint smile. Solemn as he was, a master was still a master. He could not help but be pleased when a great knight praised his beloved disciple.
As winter approached, the days grew shorter. Though it was only evening, the moon was already being swallowed by shadow in the dark sky. The lunar eclipse was almost upon them.
Was it because Eugene, too, was close to being a mage? Even the grass and trees rustling in the wind sounded different from usual.
[Come to me. Warm my throne with your body heat.]
"What?!"
At the whisper that suddenly seeped into his ear, Eugene hurriedly looked around.
But all he saw were servants busily preparing the meal and Homi staring at him with wide, round eyes.
"Didn't you just hear something?"
Her ears perked up.
She shook her head.
Touch, hearing, smell, and every other beastlike sense—Homi was extraordinary in all of them.
'Was it just my imagination?'
He dug at his ear, but heard only the wind and the sound of Homi polishing his shoes.
She had slipped a clenched fist into one shoe and was scrubbing it with a brush before polishing it with a compound. The sight reminded Eugene of his days as a soldier.
"It's a gathering of knights among knights; you needn't fuss over appearances to that extent."
But Homi's face was resolute. Whenever Eugene attended such occasions, she always attended to grooming him with care.