Chapter 88: Time of Purification (2)
Chapter 88: Time of Purification (2)
Varda and Homi headed straight for the guest bath. Maids who had already heated the water were waiting for them.
"Do you require assistance?"
"No, we are fine."
Bath attendants were a rare luxury not offered even to most visiting nobles. The service was reserved for the lord of the domain or guests of similarly exalted status.
Varda, however, was popular for her beauty and kindness. More importantly, superstitious beliefs had spread because she was an elf of the forest and a mage.
-They say touching the forest mage brings a blessing from the spirits.
-I heard an elf's aura drives hidden illness from the body.
Eugene thought the notion was absurd, but many believed it in earnest.
This was a world where clergy ranked among the saints could truly perform miracles that healed disease and injury.
Varda's magic and medicine had similar healing power. The way elves were idealized in countless stories only strengthened the belief.
"I appreciate the thought. You may go."
"Yes."
The disappointed maids bowed and withdrew, clutching Varda's discarded clothes and socks as consolation prizes.
"I appreciate the respect, but it's embarrassing."
Varda's face and even her ears reddened with embarrassment.
Her clothes were one thing, but after the long march across the wasteland, her socks smelled.
SPLASH!
Varda poured water over herself with a dipper and carefully washed her ears in front of the mirror. She had not shown it, but letting Eugene see her filthy ears throughout the journey had been humiliating.
Rub, rub.
Homi was doing the laundry.
She knelt, soaking her long, thick tail in the basin. After lifting the fluffy, feather-duster-like tail out, she worked plenty of soap into it.
Drip, drip.
Brown water poured off, and the corners of her mouth gradually lifted as her tail fur turned white again.
"Why don't you stop that and wash your body first?"
Even after quite some time, Homi still had not put a single drop of water on the rest of her body.
Her plump rear resting on the soles of her feet, her narrow waist, and her defined abs were all mottled gray with dirt.
Unable to stand it any longer, Varda poured water down her back and soaped her up herself.
Homi looked utterly content as she knelt and docilely let Varda wash her.
"Eek!"
In her delight, her tail thrashed a few times and scattered droplets everywhere.
Press.
"Stay still, all right?"
Varda's eyebrows lifted as she stepped on Homi's tail and pinned it to the floor.
But the elf's soft sole and the pressure felt more like a massage, which only pleased Homi.
"And yet you're so dignified and disciplined outside."
Homi was a girl who had not yet undergone her coming-of-age ceremony. She was starved for a kind of affection and pampering Eugene could not give her.
Varda, who had enjoyed a happy childhood in the Emerald Forest under her nurse Grace's devoted care, understood that lack.
Once their bath was finished, the two young ladies changed into silk clothes the maids had prepared.
Varda carefully applied an elven-style perfume she had compounded herself to her ears, while Homi hummed as she combed her tail.
"You took quite a while."
Eugene had been preparing drinks and refreshments for three out on the balcony.
"I have shown you an unseemly side all this time. Should I not take some care now?"
"I thought you were both strong, capable young ladies. I never thought you looked ugly."
"That tongue of yours is awfully smooth for a knight."
Varda chuckled. The man before her would have done just fine as a bard.
"I missed this feeling and atmosphere."
The two young women reclined in chairs on either side of Eugene, kicked off their slippers, and stretched. The clean, lazy feeling after the bath wrapped around them.
The river breeze slipped between their still-damp toes and along the napes of their necks. Nothing could have felt better.
Gulp, gulp.
With the cool fruit drink sliding down their throats, even a king had nothing on them. It felt as though all the hardship of the battle in the Wandering Castle and the trek through the wasteland had been washed away.
Prrr—!
The next morning, when Eugene went to the lord's private stables, Might greeted him joyfully.
The moment Eugene hugged his neck, Might flopped onto the floor. Raising and lowering his hind legs was his way of asking for belly scratches.
"Sorry I disappeared so suddenly. That startled you, didn't it?"
Eugene scratched the soft, warm skin of his belly as if giving him a massage, and Might let out a happy sound.
In the past, dogs had been the first animals Eugene thought of when it came to emotional bonds with humans, but living as a knight had changed his mind.
Horses bonded with humans far more deeply than he had imagined. Fighting for their lives together on battlefields only deepened that attachment.
"You are coming along this time."
Prrr—!
He had spent the whole time planning how to deal with the monsters remaining in the Wandering Castle and what infiltration route to use.
His thoughts seemed to sort themselves out better while he felt Might's body heat than they did in his quiet office.
"Sir, may I have a moment?"
Haind came to find him and saluted at the stable entrance.
"Come on in."
"There is something I would like to discuss."
"Speak freely."
Haind swallowed, tense. He was not even a formal vassal, just a trainee knight, so raising this subject took some resolve.
"It concerns the Black Hand Tribe."
Eugene had a rough guess as to what Haind wanted to say.
His stiff face and trembling voice were unlike a brave knight. Combined with the fact that he had sought Eugene out while Eugene was alone, the possibilities narrowed quickly.
"Do you feel that we have grown overly reliant on them?"
"Yes."
Eugene spoke first to spare him the difficulty of broaching the subject, and Haind nodded.
"An open domain like this is one thing, but in an isolated castle, we could end up handing them the initiative."
"You seemed to be growing close with our tribal friends. That wariness is a surprise."
Through real battles, hunts, and sword training, Haind had formed close ties with Rex and the other clan knights.
"Before I am their friend, I am your trainee knight."
Haind was a stickler for principle and kept personal and official matters strictly separate. Regardless of his friendships, the clan was becoming a group worth watching carefully.
"It is true that the Black Hand Tribe shows you immense respect. But they are mercenaries and nomads by identity. They remain outsiders to you."
"You speak truly. They are even a different race, after all."
Historically, many powers had suffered after allowing powerful outside armies deep into their territory. Both Haind, educated at the Knight's House, and Eugene, who had read the histories, knew this well.
"But we need their strength to take the castle and to survive the turbulent times ahead. No one else can replace them."
"I know. What I mean is that if we cannot separate from them anyway, perhaps we should deepen the relationship instead."
"For instance?"
"The Black Hand Tribe is a matriarchal society."
Eugene's easy manner gave Haind courage. He hesitated before the more difficult advice, then continued.
"I think it would be good to consider a marriage alliance with their next leader."
"A political marriage..."
Eugene's reaction was not negative, and Haind grew more enthusiastic.
"They may call themselves a mercenary company, but their power and influence far exceed those of most noble houses."
"I know. A double-digit number of noble houses have proposed marriage to them and been flatly rejected."
The Black Hand Mercenary Company's notorious reputation did not come only from its prideful contempt for humans or from stabbing nobles who withheld wages.
The pride of nobles who held grudges after having their marriage alliances rejected had played a part as well.
"Is that not a point that proves their worth?"
Though Haind was the son of a merchant family, the Knight's House had thoroughly instilled an aristocratic mindset in him.
Marriage was merely a tool to him. Love did not matter; political gain came first.
If a lord with many daughters offered gold equal to the bride's weight, Haind was the sort who would choose the heaviest daughter without hesitation.
"Thank you for the candid advice. But it is still too early to marry. Marriage is the card I can sell for the highest price, after all."
"Of course. But without a marriage alliance, I fear I shall remain uneasy."
Haind did not believe in prophecy. He believed in honest sweat and steel. That was precisely why he was even more wary of the Black Hand Tribe.
"You know what they say—people are different before and after they use the toilet. The castle is magnificent even from outside; who knows what ambitions living inside it might stir?"
If something went wrong inside, suppressing it with only Eugene's human troops would be nearly impossible.
Eugene had considered the same danger Haind was worried about.
"You need not worry about that. The castle is special. Without the castle lord's protection, normal life there is impossible."
The Wandering Castle was itself a living entity, one that chose its master by its own will.
Mystic energy flowed through every part of the castle like veins of groundwater. It could act as medicine or poison.
"It is a place where a comfortable haven can transform into something like a dungeon in an instant. Spend a few weeks there, and you will understand what I mean."
"If you say so, my lord."
"Thanks for the advice. Keep speaking this frankly with me."
Haind offered a courteous military salute and withdrew.
Eugene rested while he waited for supplies to arrive by water.
The silver weapons held by the Black Hand Tribe would be a great help in purifying the castle. Silver was the most effective means against nonliving beings, including undead.
Not only that, but he mobilized every craftsman in the village.
"Are these not far too large?"
The mercenary captain looked dubious as he studied the enormous shields.
"Didn't I already tell you?"
"You did, but I didn't expect this much."
They covered the entire body and were so thick that their protection was incredible, but they required both hands to carry.
"It seems you do not like entrusting your life entirely to someone else."
"We are mercenaries, after all."
Every man for himself was the mercenary way; comradeship could go to the dogs.
The idea of giving up one's weapon to carry only a shield was hard enough to imagine, much less put into practice. In a crisis, the only thing you could trust to save your life was the blade in your own hand.
Even when disputes broke out over spoils after battle, the man holding the better weapon was more likely to come out on top.
"The enemies are no pushovers. We need this much. Your comrades behind you will handle the attack."
The silver-plated spears that arrived first were converted into pikes.
During his entry and escape, Eugene had learned how much room weapons had to move inside the castle. He wanted the greatest possible reach without letting the shafts catch on the walls.
"Thrust!"
"Hup!"
Under Haind's guidance, the mercenaries threw themselves into intensive drills.
"Do not use them like ordinary spears. What you are carrying are pikes. Drive the strength of every muscle—from the soles planted on the ground through your legs, waist, back, and shoulders—into a single point."
With the shield-bearers forming a wall, the pikemen behind them drove their weapons forward with tremendous force.
"Lower!"
THWACK!
"Urgh!"
A mercenary struck in the thigh by Haind's swinging scabbard immediately corrected his stance.
Though it was crash-course training, they were all veterans and the equipment was excellent. Just watching them, the formation looked like a moving fortress capable of both attack and defense.
"Seeing it in action makes the difference obvious. This will be far better than fighting the usual way."
The mercenary captain swallowed and nodded.
Given their present lack of training, using this formation against a human army with cavalry and archers would be sheer madness.
Yet within the confines of the castle, where space was limited, it looked immensely effective for facing monsters.
"My lord, it is finished."
"Wait, what is this..."
When the smiths wheeled over the enormous shields, the mercenary captain looked appalled.
"They will be given to those who shall break through at the very front. Offer triple pay and recruit volunteers."
"Understood."
Working under Eugene, he had learned that his employer liked words such as 'high efficiency' and 'specialization.' But this felt excessive even by his standards.
'Still, it does look reassuring.'
When the mercenary captain tried pulling one of the enormous shields, it felt tremendously solid. A formation built around them looked capable of withstanding even a troll swinging a club.
Several more days passed before a transport ship arrived carrying silver arrows, silver spears, and additional reinforcements.
Dwarf warriors carrying a banner bearing a red hammer disembarked.
"It is an honor to be summoned."
A red-bearded dwarf centurion gave a crisp, respectful greeting.
"Some of the enemies we will face do not respond well to cuts or thrusts. I expect great things from you."
"Leave it to us. Smashing things is our specialty."
The centurion raised his hammer and grinned.
Hammer Brotherhood.
As the name suggested, every member of the mercenary company carried a steel warhammer.
'It is about time I expanded the troops under my command, but I cannot hire just anyone.'
Eugene had refrained from hiring any mercenaries beyond the heavy infantry he had brought from Bonyard precisely because he had been waiting for these dwarves.
After several more days of preparation, Eugene gave the order to march across the wasteland.
All fishing activity on the river was temporarily halted.
Gulp.
Even though Eugene hadn't explicitly forbidden anything, the fishermen watched nervously from the riverbank.
Three large transport ships had been chartered in their entirety, and troops and supplies crossed to the opposite bank in a steady stream.
"Thank you for your cooperation. I shall remember the name of the Harris Trading Company."
"It is only natural. Your good governance makes it easy for us to do business here too."
The merchants bowed politely. This was the trading company that had given Eugene a pair of camels when he first took up his post.
'What in the world lies beyond that river?'
'I am dying to know. It sure smells like money, though.'
No lord in North Fork's history had ever mounted an expedition into the wasteland across the river. There was simply nothing there.
So even when supplies were stockpiled in the open across the river before departure, no one had made a serious attempt to investigate.
-What? The wasteland?
-We wouldn't go there no matter what you paid us.
Every mercenary and adventurer had refused commissions to explore the place.
The merchants tried bribing Eugene's mercenaries with fine liquor and silver to pry out information, but even that failed.
-Oh, you should not have.
-There's just one thing I'm curious about.
The mercenaries pocketed everything they were offered, yet never disclosed anything important.
They were beginning to think of working for Eugene as a job for life, so they kept their mouths firmly shut.
"There is no need to pay us separately. Please take this money back."
"No. I don't like owing people. A transaction should be settled properly even between parent and child."
"...A truly admirable stance, my lord."
The Harris Trading Company merchants looked half delighted and half troubled.
They were sick of nobles who habitually stiffed them, demanded tribute, and threw their weight around, but gifts slipped to nobles still created a sense of obligation.
That obligation could become invisible leverage when they needed a noble's cooperation. Eugene, however, refused to give them even a needle's width of an opening.
After crossing the river, Eugene's army marched into the wasteland.
"A magnificent sight."
All who beheld it could not help but marvel at the rare spectacle.
The marching mercenaries carried shields that covered their entire bodies, making them look like a moving wall, while silver-plated pikes rose high overhead and flashed in the light.
Dark-elf skirmishers armed with composite bows marched alongside dwarves carrying hammers that looked capable of smashing boulders.
Though small in number, the force they projected intimidated every onlooker—enough to make them pity whoever would have to face them.