A Feudal Family's Dilemma
"Don't play games with me in a place like this, my lord Count."
"?"
Johann was puzzled. He had no idea what Zhannina was on about.
"You're the one who did it."
"...You truly have a remarkable faith, my lady."
It was absurd enough that she took the talk of sacred dreams at face value, but watching someone so openly refuse to believe in miracles was equally absurd in its own way.
Faith in this era was something people were born with. Even the most brutal murderers kept a corner of their hearts where they feared God — there was hardly any need to say more.
Neither Suetlg nor Caenern entirely denied the existence of the divine, but this mage...
"Isn't that a question of intelligence rather than faith? If someone laid out before you collapses at the sight of water and the sign of the cross, that's not a miracle — that's the fallen man having faked his illness in the first..."
"Move... aside from me."
In a dry, withered voice, the Viscount spoke to Zhannina. She literally fell over in shock — the Viscount had somehow raised himself upright without her noticing.
How much of what I said did he hear?
Zhannina trembled with fear. Strange as it seemed, whenever she stood before Johann, her tongue loosened as though the chains binding it had come undone.
If the Viscount took what she had just said as an insult...
But fortunately, the Viscount had little interest in Zhannina.
"Are you Count Yeats?"
"I am."
"You're far younger than I imagined..."
"And you're far weaker than I imagined."
The Viscount gave a rasping chuckle.
"Time defeats us all, in the end... Let me offer my apologies once more for the ambush."
"No need. I received my compensation."
"A wound from an arrow is not something gold alone can wash away, surely."
"I trust in the Viscount's honor, and so I shall forget the grudge."
At Johann's words, Zhannina was genuinely astonished. If she had been struck by an arrow, she would have nursed a grudge against the archer, the archer's kin, the archer's lord, and that lord's kin as well...
So that's how Count Yeats earned his reputation?
There was a powerful aura in his calm forgiveness — sparing the life of his enemy even after taking an arrow — an aura that no man ruled by petty calculations of gain and loss could ever project.
Johann was the first noble she'd ever seen display such a bearing. It was so entirely different from his usual blasphemous conduct that Zhannina found herself thoroughly confused.
"...I am grateful for that honor. My limbs were stiff as stones and would hardly move at all... Might I ask what manner of miracle this was?"
"I used holy water given by the Order."
Suetlg had given it to him, but Johann said it came from the Order. It made for a more pleasant story on the listener's end.
"The Order won't take kindly to that..."
Relations between the current Emperor and the Order were far from cordial. The Emperor coveted the authority and power the Order held, and wanted to install a more obedient Pope.
In his younger days, he had even sent troops into the Order's lands.
Using the Order's treasure on a loyal vassal of the Emperor's faction — the Order would hardly be pleased.
"Even so, there was nothing else to be done."
With trembling hands, the Viscount expressed his reverence. The young Count before him deserved exactly this kind of treatment.
What knight was more chivalrous than the knight who came of his own accord to show mercy to his enemy?
"The Count's honor... shall endure longer than the most beautiful king's palace, longer than the grandest epic sung of the mightiest knight."
"Save the speeches for later. We have much to discuss."
"?"
Johann cut straight to the point. When he mentioned that the Emperor's envoys had designs on the Viscount's house, the old man's wrinkled face went rigid.
"If you cannot believe it, I'll bring the Viscount's own son. Clever for his age — he'll testify to what happened."
"No... there's no need. I believe you already."
"...!"
When the Viscount believed him so readily, it was Johann who was caught off guard. He hadn't expected a man who had served that long to trust so easily.
Whether he caught that note of surprise or not, the Viscount spoke bitterly.
"Long service lets a man know certain things all too well."
"If you know it that well, then what must be done seems clear enough."
"Count. Look at me. I am old, with few days left to live. I have no wish to betray my honor at this stage of life."
At the Viscount's words, Johann clicked his tongue inwardly.
Whoever took that seat next, the odds that the newcomer would honor the agreement were slim.
And yet it was also true that this act of mercy had bought him a claim on their loyalty.
Nothing to be done, I suppose.
The man said he had no wish to betray — Johann couldn't grab him by the collar and force him into it. All he could do was hope the oath he received would be kept.
"...But that is my concern alone. I have no intention of stubbornly holding out while the rest of my house is dragged into the mire. I shall summon Aol-la. Give her your instructions."
"!"
At the Viscount's follow-up, Johann's face brightened. At last, the old man had extended his hand.
"However brutal and greedy the enemy may be, the moment you lay a hand on them, you'll only draw deeper suspicion. Are you certain?"
"I've made my peace with it. ...I leave it in your hands, Count."
The Viscount offered his courtesy with deliberate care. It was not a gesture made for the matter at hand, but for everything that would come after.
The moment he raised a hand against the Emperor's envoys, there would be no turning back, whether he liked it or not. And when that time came, the only one he could lean on was Johann, hegemon of the south.
The Viscount himself might never owe a debt, but from his children's generation onward, owing one would be unavoidable.
"I'll do my utmost."
At Johann's words, the Viscount nodded. A new age was dawning before him now. Even if he never lived to see it, his children would.
Summoned to attend in the Viscount's stead, Dame Aol-la accepted the sudden request without so much as a flicker of surprise.
The most loyal member of the Viscount's house had always been the Viscount himself. Beneath him, resentment toward the Emperor ran far deeper than any fealty.
They had kept Johann at arm's length because their house's rights were under threat, but with those rights now acknowledged, they stood ready — unlike their lord — to swear themselves to him.
Johann's conduct — halting his own withdrawal and riding through the night to aid the Viscount — was conduct that earned respect.
No noble coveting these lands could have done such a thing. Johann had proven the sincerity of his intentions himself.
Thanks to that, Aol-la's voice had grown noticeably warmer — a voice laced with gratitude, respect, and deference.
"...Thank you, Your Excellency. I shall not forget this debt. My lord Viscount — the moment that Baron sets foot inside, I'll have his men disarmed and cut him down where he stands."
"No. Wait, hear what he has to say, then deal with him."
"Why must we? The man isn't worth the breath."
"Envoy of the Emperor or not. However the sword falls, we ought to hear what he came to say first."
"It will only lower the dignity of the house before everyone's eyes."
"...C-could we perhaps take our leave now?"
Amid this savage clash between father and daughter, Zhannina ventured cautiously. Honestly, the situation felt very bad indeed.
An outsider had overheard far too much.
From the Viscount and his house pledging allegiance to Johann, all the way to their plan to cut down the Baron.
The only reason she'd been allowed to remain here was that the Viscount was a loyal vassal of the Emperor. But once the Viscount switched sides, she would become nothing more than...
An outsider who knew too much troublesome information.
"Did you, by chance, help cure the Viscount?"
"Not particularly. It wasn't much of a remedy."
"Then I'll kill you."
At the Viscount's cold words, Aol-la drew her sword. The woman was a mage — effectively a direct vassal of the Emperor anyway. Left alive, she would only run her mouth.
The Viscount didn't particularly try to stop her. The debt was owed to Johann, not to Zhannina. Bloodshed was coming regardless, and one more mage's drop of blood in it would change nothing.
"Your Excellency! Spare me!"
"If I spare you, will you repay the debt, swearing by the name of Magic and Mystery?"
"How on earth would you even know about—"
Zhannina cursed Caenern. Not a single thing about the man was likable. Why on earth did he go around revealing things like that?
"If you spare me, I'm a human being — of course I'd repay the debt!"
Johann snorted. At that laugh, Zhannina brightened. She thought she saw a way out. It was, of course, a misunderstanding.
"You don't seem desperate enough yet. Go on, block the blade yourself."
"Your Excellency, please step aside. I'm worried the blood will stain your clothes."
At Aol-la's words, Johann obediently stepped back. Zhannina spoke in a rush.
"...I'll swear it by the name of Magic and Mystery!"
"Your Excellency. Even spared, she's a woman you can scarcely trust. If she runs—"
"I'm not putting any faith in her. She can't run anyway."
"?"
At Johann's words, Zhannina was baffled. What was he basing that on?
Even if the debt could wait, surely she could still flee.
Johann clicked his tongue at her reaction.
"Your political eye is lacking, for all your talent. Dame Caenern was rather different."
That son of a bitch, seriously...
Being compared to the person she despised most made her blood boil several times over.
"I won't count this as a debt — I'll tell you for free. When this whole mess is over and you return alone, what do you suppose the Emperor will think?"
"Well..."
Zhannina had confidence in herself. Complete confidence that she could explain away this situation perfectly and win back the Emperor's trust.
It was the confidence only a mage could project. The assurance of holding nobles in the palm of one's hand — that was hard to come by for anyone but a mage.
"Do you truly believe that? The Emperor will have lost a whole territory and every vassal attached to it — do you think he won't rage? With a temper like his, do you think it won't come flying somewhere else? Do you really hold that much of his trust?"
"......"
At Johann's words, Zhannina scrunched her face as hard as it would scrunch. His words spread through her heart like a virulent poison. And the cruelest part of it was that not a single word was wrong. It was as vivid as if he'd personally witnessed the Emperor's court.
The Emperor was fiery and capricious. It would have surprised no one if he cast his vassals aside at a moment's notice.
Beside her, Aol-la stared at Zhannina with an expression that radiated pure murder. The look of finding her a nuisance carried an unmistakable air of I'll send an assassin the moment the Count stops looking. Zhannina hastily whispered to Johann.
"Your Excellency. Please, at least extract a promise that they won't kill me."
"Oh, come now. Surely she wouldn't do such a thing."
"Your Excellency, please—!"
Baron Gartner was grinning from ear to ear. Not because luxurious, opulent treatment had been prepared for him, nor because he and his men had been granted easy permission to enter armed.
"Made an agreement with the Count, have they? And that's the truth of it?"
"Yes, my lord. We grabbed a few of the servants working in the keep and confirmed it."
Gartner rubbed his palms together, his expression one of pure anticipation. He'd been prepared to manufacture evidence that didn't exist — and here it was, laid out for him from the very start.
They would arrest the Count, transport him back to the Empire, cut him down at the first opening — and until then, this territory would belong to him and his men.
"Baron Gartner. The agreement was a matter of necessity. Lord Viscount did all that could be done."
"Treason is treason either way, isn't it! Long explanations are wasted breath. Are you defending traitors now?"
At the Baron's unchecked tirade, the vassal's face twisted with fury.
He was one of the few vassals in the territory who belonged to the Emperor's faction, and when he heard that the Baron had come as the Emperor's envoy, he had come to help.
And this was the disrespect he received. However you looked at it, wasn't it simply too much?
"Mind your tongue, Baron! My honor is not so cheap as yours. Lord Viscount did everything within his power to reach an agreement. I say this: pressed by the Republic and threatened by the Count, he did not bend."
Even to a dyed-in-the-wool loyalist, this agreement had been the absolute best that could be managed. Producing such terms from a position that hopeless was itself worthy of praise.
And now some ignorant foreigner presumed to pass judgment as he pleased. Of course it was galling.
"Shut your mouth. If an enemy comes, you fight them and drive them out — what's with all this whimpering? If I'd been there, I'd have lopped off every coward's head and kicked their arses until they learned how to fight."
"......"
At the senseless insult, the vassal's face drained white.
"Fresh wine for the table, sirs."
"Just set it down and go!"
The eyes of the servants carrying in the wine glinted dangerously. They were memorizing the mercenaries — the ones laughing and jeering as they slandered Johann's honor at the table.
They would not be permitted to die an easy death!