Chapter 77: Advent (1)
Chapter 77: Advent (1)
"We're home!"
The moment the beloved river of North Fork came into view, the mercenaries cried out, one and all.
Home was where the heart was, as they say, and it seemed they had formed a deep attachment to it over the winter months.
The good weather, the variety of food, the fishing and hunting permitted on designated days — it was a heaven of sorts for the mercenaries.
On the balcony behind the lord's office, three reclining chairs had been installed. They were the seats for Eugene, Homi, and Varda.
-I've no wish to be the tactless one, so I'll decline. I thank you for the sentiment all the same.
Originally, there were plans to place four chairs, but Marbas had declined with a hearty laugh.
Homi loved to lie there and feel the spring breeze blowing in from the river.
Scribble, scribble.
Twitch, twitch.
Homi's ears twitched as she lay there, listening to the scratch of Eugene's quill while he checked and signed documents in the office.
It was a quiet sound, but one she had grown familiar with.
The difference from then was that both now possessed fine warhorses and equipment, and could claim the vast lord's hunting grounds all to themselves.
Finding game was easy.
"Isn't that dangerous?"
Shake, shake.
Sometimes Homi would stand straight up on horseback, surveying the surroundings with a wide field of vision.
Even allowing for Sandy's care, Homi's balance was absurdly good.
Sniff, sniff.
Homi's sense of smell, which surpassed that of a hunting hound, missed no scent even from horseback. Any beast careless enough to relieve itself nearby ended up on the manor's dinner table that day.
Prrr!
Might also seemed to find joy in running alongside Sandy.
"I'm always grateful."
When Eugene stroked its mane, the creature half-closed its eyes in contentment.
As was common with Barsian warhorses, Might was particularly clever. By staying with Eugene, it had perfectly mastered the range of the large flail and kept an optimal distance.
She kept just enough distance that enemy attacks could not reach her while Eugene could still strike from the very edge of his flail's range.
"You must stay healthy. I can't even imagine how long I'd have to teach another horse to do even half of what you do."
The saying that a horse was a knight's companion did not spring from mere romanticism.
Varda had placed dozens of flowerpots in the office.
"I've never seen such designs before."
"You wouldn't have. They were made by elves."
"Such precious things?"
The secluded elves had preserved an unusual tradition of bow-making.
"I have connections to an elf community in the northern woodlands of the Inland Sea. I contacted them and received these. They arrived while I was away on the expedition."
The elven flowerpots and the plants that received their magic and touch had transformed the office into another space entirely.
It felt like sitting in the heart of a forest brimming with freshness and peace. Visitors could not contain their admiration.
"The tea will grow cold."
"Ah, yes! Yes!"
Everyone was so absorbed in savoring the air deep into their lungs that they even forgot to drink the tea served to them.
The worries of the heart, the fatigue of the journey, the impurities clinging to muscles, lungs, and soul — all of it was washed away by the breath of the plants.
"It's changed completely since my last visit."
"Did you hire a new gardener? Please, do introduce us. I've never seen such skill in any great lord's household."
"..."
When evening fell, the two women and one man would sit side by side on the balcony chairs and gaze at the nighttime river.
The sight of a few boats floating out for night fishing and the guard patrol making their rounds through the village with lit lanterns was utterly heartwarming.
It felt as though all the blood and filth that had stained their hands thus far was washed away.
Soft, even breaths.
Sometimes, when Homi dozed off, Eugene would lift her in his arms. Varda would coil her long tail atop her chest so it wouldn't drag on the ground.
"May you have sweet dreams."
"You as well."
Carrying Homi to her room, waving goodbye to Varda — with that, another peaceful day came to a close.
Unfortunately, the break did not last long.
It was because the northern lords, having settled the chaos and even driven out the pirates, had planned a festival.
A formal invitation arrived, bearing Duke Ismar's seal.
"They say a grand banquet is being held to commemorate the expulsion of the northern threat."
"It won't simply be for promoting friendship. It must be to gather those who will become the swords of the North when the time comes to fight the Emperor Faction again."
"A banquet right after a battle that large... Duke Ismar's resources must be extraordinary."
"He does hold several lucrative cities bordering the Inland Sea."
Since becoming a lord, Eugene had realized more strongly than ever that simply farming the land and raising livestock honestly did not make much money.
Real money came from taking spoils and ransoms in war or throwing oneself into maritime trade.
Baron Est owned four villages, yet his total income was not even double Eugene's.
Considering the expense of separately managing and defending those scattered villages, there was effectively no significant difference in actual income.
"Looks like plenty of free knights are heading north too."
Every time a ship departed from North Fork's port, it was filled with knights who had come from all over.
"You intend to accept the invitation?"
"Of course. This letter is not written by a scribe, but in the Duke's own hand."
There had been real value in saving Duke Ismar's vassal, Baron Est, and Lasta Monastery, which the duke supported.
"When are you thinking of departing?"
"With no reason to delay, I intend to go up at once."
Whether it was a battlefield or a banquet, those who arrived first tended to get a little more out of it.
On the battlefield, they would have priority in the distribution of spoils and honor; at a banquet, they would catch the host's eye and gratitude.
While preparations for departure were underway, a gift arrived from the Black Hand Tribe.
"Sir Knight. It's the bow I mentioned the other day."
Rex presented the bow he had received.
"Strange-looking, isn't it?"
Two limbs larger than those of an ordinary composite bow crossed in an X. Its two bowstrings met and twisted together at the center.
"It's striking, but isn't it structurally inefficient? There must be a reason others don't bother making them like this."
"You are correct. Power is lost at the joint between the limbs and through the double bowstring. It becomes heavier, and the string is also prone to shaking."
Rex shrugged his shoulders.
"But you have that god-given strength of yours, Sir Knight. I designed it this way so you could handle it from horseback and still use all that power."
Twang!
Indeed, when Eugene drew and released the string, even the sound was different.
"Shot with this, the arrow will likely pass clean through any ordinary boar or deer."
"Thank you. I'll make good use of it."
Two days later, Eugene boarded a ship with a small handpicked force.
Just as with the dark elf festival, they could travel comfortably by waterway. It was one of the advantages of the North.
"It's a magnificent sight."
Rostock, where they arrived without incident, was Duke Ismar's seat and a major logistical hub on the Inland Sea.
It always saw heavy traffic, and with the festival on top of that, the crowds were extraordinary.
The coastline had no sandy beach, consisting instead of rocky terrain. Beyond it, scores of large ships were coming and going.
"So that's the sea."
"Good heavens! I thought people were joking when they spoke of a horizon, but it's real."
The mercenaries, who had only ever encountered lakes or rivers before seeing the Inland Sea, gaped in awe. They had never imagined so much water could gather in one place.
"That's not technically the sea. It's an enormous lake."
"Huh? But everyone calls it the sea?"
The mercenaries looked to their employer, who remained calm as ever.
"The real sea lies at the southern and western ends of the continent. Even the smell is different from river water."
"I've heard it's salty water."
Whenever Eugene had the chance, he gathered information from travelers and merchants who had come from distant regions.
He had therefore become convinced that, monsters and magic aside, the basic laws and substances of nature were not so different from what he knew.
"They say that out on the open sea, the depth reaches thousands of meters, and the species of fish caught are completely different."
"Thousands of meters? Isn't that far deeper than the southern mountain range?"
Everyone listened closely. The stories their employer occasionally let slip were full of fascinating things.
The stories ranged from bawdy jokes that left even hardened mercenaries gaping, to amusing fables, to tales of worlds unimaginably far away.
"You fellows like shrimp, don't you?"
"Of course. We can't get enough of them."
The freshwater shrimp and crabs caught in North Fork's wide river were a delicacy the mercenaries loved.
Though when it was first offered to them, everyone had recoiled in horror.
-Try it. I'm telling you, it's delicious.
-I-Isn't this a bug?
-Captain! The best food should go to the captain first.
-You bastards...
When Eugene personally peeled the shell, salted it, and put it into the mercenary captain's mouth, the man's eyes went wide.
From then on, crustaceans became one of the reasons the mercenaries yearned for North Fork during the expedition.
"Out on the true ocean, they catch crabs and shrimp several times larger than what you ate. At that size, both the richness and the texture are incredible."
"Truly, the world is vast."
"Mm... That's a delicacy fellows like us will probably never taste in our lives."
The mercenaries smacked their lips and laughed, apparently enjoying even the thought of it.
"Don't jump to conclusions. Who knows? Someday we might go to the real sea."
"Now you're getting our hopes up."
Whether the day would ever come when they saw the real sea, no one could know.
One thing, however, was certain: in all the time he had led them, their employer had never kept good food or drink to himself.
"Is there anything you know about Duke Ismar?"
Before his audience with the Duke, Eugene sought Varda's counsel.
"He's a young man in his late twenties. His much older eldest brother died without an heir, and he suddenly became the lord."
"It sounds similar to the current Emperor."
"As rulers, their reputations among the people could not be more different."
"Judging by Baron Est's attitude, that seemed to be the case."
Duke Ismar had been unable to help while an overwhelming pirate force attacked, yet Baron Est's loyalty had not wavered. There had to be a reason for that.
"He makes excellent use of the North's waterways. When famine strikes, there is hardly a lord who has not received relief supplies from the duke."
"As they say, generosity comes from a full storehouse."
"And he is a lord his people can rely on in wartime."
At present, the North was the only part of Roman holding a festival on this scale.
-While the Emperor is supporting the West and South, we have our chance.
It was because early in the civil war, Duke Ismar had swiftly rallied his forces and forced a full-scale war.
The offensive had moved so quickly that the Emperor Faction in the North had been all but destroyed before meaningful reinforcements could arrive.
With the Emperor's influence gone, the North quickly stabilized. At last, it had room to breathe and regroup.
The mood was completely different from other regions, which were bracing for another war as soon as spring began.
"His Grace the Duke summons you."
At the steward's words, Varda once more checked over Eugene's attire.
In the spacious office, a refined-looking young man sat reading a mountain of letters.
"Welcome. Sir Eugene of House Meyer."
Duke Ismar looked as though a strong gust might blow him away.
It was a face that seemed to take more pleasure in forgiving someone than killing them. His slender fingers looked as though they had been carved to hold a brush or a musical instrument.
"Letters truly do come flying in before a grand event. Letters of introduction for knights that each noble sends, and so on. Most are filled with exaggeration and falsehoods."
He gestured with his palm toward four letters set aside.
"But the letters concerning you were the opposite. I could feel the restraint and fear of those who put pen to paper. Were they worried I might view them as braggarts?"
Duke Ismar let out a small laugh.
"It is good to meet you. And let me thank you again. Saving Baron Est's domain and Lasta Monastery was about many lives, regardless of politics."
"I merely did my duty as a knight of the North."
"The lords of North Fork have been admirable for generations. The bloodline may not continue, but an heir has come who carries on their spirit. I imagine your predecessors can rest easy."
Eugene clasped the Duke's proffered hand as he approached.
"Both the baron and the abbot spoke of their unwavering trust in Your Grace."
"Doesn't that make it hurt all the more? I can never get used to deciding who comes first among the people who love and trust me."
The Duke placed a hand on Eugene's back and guided him to the balcony beside the office.
"Every lord wants capable knights for a different reason. I want them so I can lessen that pain. Keep this between us. It makes me sound weak."
RUSHHHH...
Just like Eugene's balcony, a chessboard was set up in a spot with a fine view overlooking the vast Inland Sea.
"Do you know how to play chess? If not, I can teach you."
"I know how to play. I've been learning daily from an excellent teacher."
At last, Varda's chess lessons were paying off.
"I received your gift. I'll pay generously for him. He should prove useful when we condemn the Emperor's crimes."
The gift the Duke spoke of was the knight Bruce, who had led the pirates.
There was a great political difference between the Emperor commissioning pirates to attack the North and an Imperial knight personally guiding and supplying those pirates.
Wording made all the difference in politics. Bruce had a great deal of political value to the Noble Faction.
"Your skill is not bad. Who taught you?"
"Varda-nim, the mage of the Emerald Forest."
"You have two teachers whom neither a king's power nor untold wealth could summon."
The Duke's expression was one of genuine envy toward Eugene.
"Those who work hard. Those who want peace. The North is open to all of them. To protect them, I need many fine knights. In a world this chaotic, I suppose that sounds like a joke of a dream."
Watching the duke laugh at himself, Eugene hardly felt as though he were meeting a great noble.
It felt more like sharing drinks at a small table with an older man from the neighborhood he had always been close to, on the kind of night he did not want to end even as it grew late.