Chapter 72: Northern Debut (4)
Chapter 72: Northern Debut (4)
When they reached a hill close to the water source, the scouts who had been sent ahead were waiting. It meant there was no better resting spot than this one.
Eugene placed a hand over his chest to acknowledge their efforts, then raised his right hand.
"Halt! We'll make camp here tonight!"
At the booming command, everyone stopped at once—not only Eugene's soldiers, but Baron Yones's as well.
'Not even a moment's hesitation...'
The knights of House Yones were unsettled by how naturally their soldiers obeyed.
The two armies were traveling together, but they were still as distinct as ants from different colonies.
Yet the troops of House Yones followed Eugene's orders as though the pheromones they had obeyed all their lives had suddenly been replaced.
One battle. The war-god-like might Eugene had shown there had seized even the soldiers' souls.
"Prepare quarters for the two lords over there."
The tribal warriors erected a large tent in the best spot and decorated its interior with carpets of ornate patterns.
"This is the first time I have seen anything like this."
"It's very different from Roman style, isn't it?"
Baron Yones entered the nomad-style tent with his eyes shining.
Once they began trading cups of wine in a relaxed atmosphere, it became clear why the baron had been so delighted to see Eugene.
"Sigh. To think I broke with my own hands a vassal contract that had endured for generations."
"Wasn't it your former liege who broke faith first by joining the Emperor Faction? Don't blame yourself."
The head of his house had died suddenly of heart disease. Before he could even gather his wits after becoming lord overnight, enemies surrounded him on every side.
While holding the funeral, he circulated a declaration supporting the Noble Faction and courted a great noble in search of a new liege.
As part of those efforts, he had marched out on campaign only to be ambushed and thrown into a battlefield reeking of blood.
Then, just when he thought, 'I'm finished,' he was rescued. An inexperienced lord could hardly keep his emotions from overflowing.
"So it is true that God prepares adversity and deliverance together. To think He sent you to me, Sir Eugene."
A knight barely different from him in age, with no ties to the north, who had built an enormous reputation in a short time!
Baron Yones felt both kinship and admiration for the lord before him.
"Sir Eugene, according to rumor, some castles have even fallen to the pirates."
"There are areas swarming with hundreds, even thousands, of them. It's hardly surprising."
Not every lord lived in a sturdy stone castle. Some wooden forts were so flimsy it was embarrassing to call them castles, and taking them required no siege engines at all.
A few warhorses could kick down the gate, or a fire could be set to force the defenders outside.
"What happened to the families of the lords whose castles fell?"
"I heard they were taken in chains to the capital and stripped of their titles."
"Their lives as nobles are over, then."
"Yes. People coveting the vacancies swarm around the Emperor like bees. They must dream of getting even a small fief and living like kings."
That was how the Emperor Faction had mobilized an army far beyond what its finances should have allowed: it could offer lordships to men burning with ambition.
The Emperor's infamy would soar for such tyranny, trampling the nobility's ancient rights. But if he cared about such things, he would never have proclaimed himself emperor in the first place.
The villages they encountered after advancing into Baron Est's territory were taut with tension.
More than a few villages had been wiped out not only by pirates, but by mercenaries running wild amid the chaos.
-Please take us in! We'll do any hard work you ask!
Refugees who had lost their homes were pouring in from all directions.
-Father-in-law...
-Daddyyy! Waaah!
There were even households where a daughter sent off in marriage to a neighboring village returned in rags with her husband.
Given the situation, Haind and the mercenaries who entered the villages to buy supplies were met with wary eyes.
"The village chief tried to offer tribute, so I refused."
"Good. There's no need to make a bad impression on Baron Est."
Some villages were so afraid the army before them might turn into bandits that they tried to surrender the wealth they had saved.
"Sir Knight, since we came as a relief force, custom says we can accept this much."
Rex, disappointed that he could not loot, wanted to at least collect tribute.
"It's not much money anyway."
"It's not about the amount. The thrill of squeezing it out of them is the fun part, isn't it?"
Unlike Eugene, who had the sensibilities of a settled people, Rex was a nomad who considered the very act of taking something from others the finest amusement.
His thinking was that even if it created grudges, he could simply move somewhere else.
"They already look destitute enough. I don't want to take a cut from them too."
The surrounding conditions were so grim that the villagers' faces were generally gaunt.
"Once we pass through, we'll never see them again."
"But they'll remember us."
"..."
Rex desperately swallowed the thought, 'Sir Knight, have you forgotten the dozens of pirates whose heads you caved in?'
"I forget the sight of dead bandits after a night's sleep. But it's hard to forget children crying with empty bowls."
"I-I didn't say anything, sir."
Though his inner thoughts had been exposed, Rex felt a flash of joy alongside his embarrassment.
Reading his subordinates was part of a leader's ability. It helped him see through enemy tricks and stop betrayal within his own ranks.
"Sir Knight, sometimes you seem like a mercenary, and other times like a priest."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Of course it is. It means you can put on the mask of good or evil whenever you need to."
'That sounds more like an insult...'
Just then, the scouts who had ranged far ahead returned and reported that there was not a single pirate nearby.
"We shall have to thank Bruce."
"Indeed. He gathered all the vermin and their spoils into one place for us, nice and tidy."
Rex glanced back at the Imperial knight, trussed up and loaded onto a cart, as though looking at a praiseworthy child.
Thanks to Bruce gathering the pirates together so thoroughly, Eugene's force had wiped them out in one stroke and marched on without another battle.
"Welcome, righteous neighbors!"
Baron Est came bursting out the moment the relief force arrived before his castle.
A few days earlier, Baron Est had watched from the walls as a large pirate horde gathered and raced west.
He had been trembling ever since, and the speed and size of the relief force moved him beyond expectation.
"You mean to say you utterly exterminated those wild dogs, every last one of them?!"
Baron Est even grew misty-eyed at the news that the pirates had been wiped out.
"Normally we would have had a headache chasing scattered pirates all over the place. We owe this to Baron Yones holding them in one spot."
"W-well, it was nothing."
Baron Yones gave an awkward laugh at Eugene's backhanded praise. After all, he had nearly died because he was the target.
Had Eugene not arrived in time, Baron Yones—not Bruce—would now be trussed up on a cart.
"Please see to the care of the wounded."
"Of course! They are warriors who came to save my domain, are they not?"
Baron Est thumped his chest, and Baron Yones bowed his head. Every soldier killed or wounded in the battle had belonged to Yones's force.
"I will make sure Duke Ismar hears of your righteous deeds. You there! Are you writing this down?"
"Yes! My lord."
Behind Baron Est, a scribe was busily working a quill.
The entire story was simply that the neighboring lords, having heard the plea for aid, had come and vanquished the pirates.
The situation was not complicated, yet the scribe's quill showed no sign of stopping, as though there were endless things to record.
'A lord who knows how to put on a show.'
Baron Est was putting on a sort of show.
It was a way to please people without spending a coin, yet nobles were surprisingly bad at it. Even the lowest lord ruled his own lands like a king.
"The civil war has simply left him without the resources. His Grace has always treated his vassals well. He will soon restore order around us and return the north to normal."
Baron Est remained unwaveringly loyal to Duke Ismar. He seemed to bear no resentment that the duke had been unable to help him when he was in danger.
Put another way, it showed how well the duke had governed his vassals.
Clench.
Baron Yones clenched his fist. He looked determined to catch the duke's eye through this opportunity and be accepted as his vassal.
Baron Est threw open his storehouse and laid out a grand banquet.
"I have prepared a feast for the great heroes."
Nobles were a breed who threw banquets even in the midst of war.
The pirate threat was not completely gone, but destroying the enemy's main force in the region was an achievement more than worthy of a feast.
The castle's leading figures relaxed now that the outside threat had eased, while the guests ate and drank heavily in celebration of victory.
"I am most curious to hear the story of how you thrashed those man-eating bear knights of Gord."
"Ah! Save the trial by combat story for later and tell us about the magical beast first! A knight's tale of valor ought to be about monster hunting, should it not?"
Eugene's cup had no chance to remain empty.
"Your late father was a fine lord. A toast to his eternal rest!"
"Duke Ismar will understand your sincerity. We will testify to your honor, Baron Yones."
Baron Yones, seated farther away, had his cup refilled just as constantly.
Noble hospitality meant eating and drinking ravenously even on an ordinary visit with no particular business.
All the more so when the guests had arrived as a relief force bearing a great victory.
The person offered the most wine at the banquet, however, was neither Eugene nor Yones. It was Varda.
Her fame as a mage extended throughout Roman.
"I had no idea that the renowned mage of the Emerald Forest would be gracing us with her presence as well."
Glug, glug, glug.
"To have such a sage remain at your side as an advisor—truly, Sir Eugene, I envy you! Hahaha!"
More glug, glug, glug.
"O noble lady of the forest. I spent the entire banquet searching for words worthy of your radiance, but now that I stand before you, every one seems inadequate. You are beautiful. I can think of no other word."
Glug, glug, glug again.
Varda's face, rarely revealed beneath her hood, was the sweetest accompaniment to the wine at the banquet.
Her hair looked spun from molten gold, and her golden eyes put every fine candle in the hall to shame.
"So this is why you are always hooded, even at ordinary banquets."
"I don't much care for alcohol."
The rich scent of sweet wine clung to Varda's breath as she sat beside Eugene.
In noble hospitality, refusing a drink would shame the host; one was expected to drink even if it meant collapsing.
And when a beauty one might scarcely see twice in a lifetime kept drinking without showing any sign of drunkenness, everyone was delighted.
"That is an incredible tolerance. You seem to have drunk as much as I have, yet you are completely fine."
"Elves are highly resistant to disease and poison."
Her detoxification was exceptional, but that did not increase how much liquid her body could physically hold.
"Still, they're going too far. You've already been to the bathroom twice, yet they keep pressing more wine on you."
"...You are the one going too far. One does not discuss a lady's bathroom visits."
Despite how much she had drunk, only a faint flush colored her pale face—especially her ears.
"The wine seems decent enough. Even those picky fellows are drinking it happily."
Eugene pointed toward the tribal warriors. Rex was still trying to pour more wine into Haind.
"It's not as good as my clan's traditional brew, but it's drinkable. Have some."
"I told you, I'm fine."
"Come on. Just one cup."
For the dark elves, whose daily life was plunder and wandering, mercantile skill was every bit as important as combat prowess.
Born to a merchant family, Haind was practical and excelled at trade and logistics. Such a rare kind of knight made a good impression on the dark elves.
Gulp, gulp.
"Pahhh!"
"Bwahahaha! This squire of yours is far better than you!"
"Squire! Have a cup of mine too!"
"Now that's a real knight! At this rate, Haind, you should be the squire!"
The tribal warriors applauded as Homi boldly emptied her cup and thrust it out again.
Though only a squire in rank, no one in Eugene's camp dared speak down to her.
It was the combined result of her outstanding combat skill, her uncanny scouting sense, and her place as one of Eugene's closest companions.
Varda had been watching fondly, but her face stiffened at the sound of another set of footsteps approaching.
"You are like a flower wrought from all the beauty of the forest gathered together. I beseech you, allow me to offer you a cup."
Everyone was well into their cups, and their compliments had become unbearably cheesy.
As Varda's cup filled for what must have been the umpteenth time, her golden eyes blinked with weary resignation.
"Leave it to me."
Eugene discreetly swapped his own half-empty cup with Varda's.
"I thank you for the consideration, but you needn't go to such lengths."
Though she said that, she was grateful. Quite apart from getting drunk, the smell of alcohol was beginning to make her queasy.
"A black knight."
"A black knight?"
"It means protecting a noble lady in distress at a banquet—not with a sword, but with your mouth."
Varda covered her mouth and laughed gracefully.
"A fascinating culture. Your stories are ever novel."
The knight before her always had curious stories to tell: strange customs like this, instructive fables, even scandalous and indecent myths about the gods.
"They are nothing compared with the counsel and devotion you give me, Varda-nim."
"No. Our relationship is mutually beneficial enough already, so do not say such things."
In an age starved for entertainment, Eugene's endless store of stories and peculiar philosophy always gave Varda something to enjoy and laugh about.
"This short time with you has been more enjoyable than all the years I spent wandering Roman alone."
"You seem a little drunk."
"...Perhaps."
Eugene himself, smiling as he said it, did not seem particularly aware of his own condition, though.
While Eugene briefly stepped away, several people inquired about Varda's future plans.
They wanted to know whether she had any intention of meeting the lord they served. Baron Est was among them.
Glug-glug-glug.
"His Grace Duke Ismar has often praised the mage of the Emerald Forest."
The baron spoke as he respectfully poured wine into Varda's cup.
"That is an honor."
"Would you perhaps consider meeting with him once your contract with Sir Eugene has concluded?"
Unlike knights, mages had no concept of a liege lord, only patrons. The more exceptional the mage, the more true this was.
A knight whose entire domain consisted of a single village could hardly keep the Mage of the Emerald Forest beside him for long.
Baron Est's face lit up at the prospect of presenting his lord with such a splendid gift.
"I appreciate the thought, but even I don't know when I will leave Sir Eugene's side."
"Pardon? Whatever do you...?"
"There is no contract of gold between us. I don't know when this strange journey together will end. My feet do not ache yet."
Varda lightly drained her cup and smiled.
"Thank you for the wine. He will be back soon."
Varda touched one long, pale elven ear. Sweet wine scented her breath, and her smile was intoxicating.
Even someone captivated by her would understand the gesture as an unmistakable dismissal.
The baron bowed and withdrew without daring to ask what she meant, despite being the host of the banquet himself.