The Savage's Test
Suetleug hadn't been wrong.
The guards at the gate had spotted the banners and sent word inside, and Johan's party was swiftly admitted into the city.
The nobles of the city weren't, strictly speaking, true nobles. There were certainly some of genuine noble lineage among them, but the core of the urban patriciate was made up of self-made families. Their blood simply wasn't as blue as that of the true aristocracy.
And so the relationship between the city's noble houses and the land-holding families of the old blood was a rather delicate one — a mixture of jealousy, longing, and grudging respect.
...Of course, that didn't mean anyone would dream of turning away visitors like the Abner or the Zalpen families. Especially not when those families were at the height of their influence in the West.
As a result, Johan's party had to endure a pilgrimage from mansion to mansion.
"What are you drinking?"
"Water of life."
"Alcohol? You just drank a whole goblet of it, and you're drinking more?"
"...I'm drinking the water that sobers you up. My constitution isn't as sturdy as yours."
Suetleug, whether from drink or from foresight, was protecting himself with an expensive antidote.
In this world, the more lavish and the more debauched the hospitality, the deeper the sincerity behind it. And so at this very moment, Johan's party was eating and drinking like mad in the mansion of a city noble whose family name Johan could barely remember.
Johan could gulp down undiluted grape spirits without a second thought, but the others could not. Suetleug especially.
"When do you intend to call on the wizard friend of yours?"
"One must honor custom. I should think we'll be eating and drinking until at least tomorrow."
Suetleug said, wiping his mouth.
If a host lavished attention on one guest and snubbed another, he risked accumulating pointless grudges. Feasting merrily at another's invitation was, after all, a duty expected of any noble.
"Eat and drink by all means, but I'm more curious about the magic, if I'm honest."
"You are a strange one. Though I suppose staying sober at gatherings like this might be the wiser choice."
Suetleug glanced around. Everyone in the party except Johan was thoroughly drunk — Marco and the knights included.
Even honorable knights ate and drank their fill at occasions like this. Indeed, the one who *didn't* enjoy himself was the odd man out — hearty feasting was itself a proof of a knight's vigor.
Besides, Marco and the knights came from poor families, so occasions like this could only delight them all the more.
But Suetleug was a mage. Proving one's strength through eating and drinking simply didn't resonate with him.
"Your cup is empty, Sir! Why haven't the servants filled it!"
At the noble's shout, a servant scurried over and filled Johan's goblet to the brim with wine. Johan drained it in one go. Cheers erupted from every corner of the hall.
"In any case—"
"...That wasn't water I just drank, was it. That was wine."
"It was. In any case, sir, even while we've been feasting, I've noticed a few people casting less-than-friendly glances our way... Shouldn't we be concerned about that?"
Wiesen was a free imperial city. A city chartered into freedom by the Emperor himself — which meant, inevitably, it harbored an Imperialist faction.
No matter how tyrannical an emperor became, factions like these never vanished easily.
"You noticed that while drinking? Impressive. But such men exist everywhere, don't they? I doubt they have the gall to do anything in this city while custom still holds. And besides, it's hardly a good time for the Imperialists to be frothing at the mouth."
They had been defeated in the West and were scheming to invade the South — public opinion toward the Emperor could hardly be favorable. Even if the Imperialists resented the Abner and Zalpen families, there was little they could do about it.
"Still, no harm in being careful, wouldn't you say? I'll give the mercenaries a heads-up as well."
"Good. Do that."
"Lady Kaenerna, we have arrived at the city."
The knights spoke cautiously. Mages were said to be temperamental as a breed, but the one these men served was temperamental on another level entirely.
Not that they had any choice. She was, for all practical purposes, the Emperor's confidant.
"Lady Kaenerna, you must be careful. The mood in Wiesen is not good."
"I'm aware."
Kaenerna answered in a languid voice. She was a mage, not a fool — a far cry from those who couldn't read a room and flaunted their station for all to see.
Being known as an agent of the Emperor in Wiesen at the moment would bring nothing but trouble. That was why the knights traveled with their banners hidden, in disguise. It was dishonorable, but there was no help for it.
"Why so full of complaints? Searching for Sir Gairendel was your wish, was it not?"
"N-no, my lady."
"So the honor and fellowship of knights amounts to no more than that. I must have been mistaken."
Discontent clouded the knights' faces. The mage's words had struck a sore spot.
But setting honor aside, hunting down Sir Gairendel this far from the capital was an extravagant waste. If it were Sir Karamap, perhaps — but knights of Gairendel's caliber were plentiful at the Emperor's court.
And honestly, the reason Gairendel had gone silent...
'He most likely simply left, didn't he?'
'He was never granted a fief, and he's from the South — it seems likely he withdrew when his position grew untenable.'
"Sir Gairendel was from the southern Empire to begin with. It would hardly be strange if he departed for other lands."
"The magic says otherwise, so quiet down and follow orders, shall you?"
"...Yes. What would you have us do?"
"I'm going to pay a certain place a visit and have a conversation. If the other party won't listen, you'll need to come help me."
"...?"
"Knights are such a bother."
Kaenerna raised a hand and drew it across her own neck. The knights went pale.
"Are we to kill them?"
"No. Don't kill. We take them and carry them out. Can you manage that? Surely you're not telling me even that is beyond you."
"......"
The task had just gotten harder, but the knights nodded. It was a dishonorable errand, an errand in service of a mage's command — but it was not impossible. More than doable, in fact.
For smuggling their captive out of the city, they could simply borrow the hands of the Imperialist faction within Wiesen. Once they revealed their identity, the faction would cooperate however they could.
Even after Goidun had checked, and a maid had checked once more after him, Johan went over his appearance yet again.
One of the virtues a knight ought to possess was, remarkably enough, fashion. How splendidly one presented oneself could, at times, make or break one's reputation.
Of course, Johan was not doing this in order to go courting some noble lady or maiden. Suetleug looked at him with utter disdain.
"He said you may call on him as you are, you know."
"One moment, please. I'm meeting a mage, and it makes me nervous..."
'Then what do you call the mage standing right in front of you?'
"Fine. Let's go."
Johan turned and walked out into the city streets with Suetleug. Watching the mercenaries trailing quietly behind them, Suetleug murmured:
"Being careful never hurts, but... isn't this a bit much?"
The city made heavy armament impossible, but the mercenaries had, with considerable skill, contrived to strap weapons on every which way. Beyond the swords at their hips, several more would surely be produced when needed.
"The friend I'm calling on isn't the sort to be glad a crowd showed up at his door."
"We'll have them wait outside. Discreetly, of course."
Seasoned mercenaries, all of them. They scattered around the vicinity and settled into position with practiced ease. Suetleug nodded.
"Well... I suppose that will do."
After passing through several districts of the city, Suetleug stepped into the quarter where the guilds were gathered — and then abruptly ducked into a stable beside one of the buildings.
'He insisted on walking here, of all things?'
Johan was puzzled. It had been Suetleug who'd insisted they come on foot rather than ride. So why the stable?
From inside came a thunderous snoring. There, sprawled asleep among the horses, lay a shaggy, unkempt man. He wore some strange kind of hide draped over him, which only made him look all the more like a wild man of the wilderness.
"Gullak. Wake up."
No answer. Suetleug pointed at a filthy wooden bucket nearby. The water in it wasn't exactly clean either.
"Pour it on him."
"Ah — a sobering spell. Of course."
"Don't make strange jokes."
SPLASH!
The man surged upright with a string of curses. He muttered something in an unplaceable tongue, then glared at Suetleug.
"You mad bastard... Is this how you greet your host — dousing him with water the moment you come calling as a guest?"
"I was the one who poured it."
"And who might you be?"
"Johan of the Eitz family."
"A knight? Didn't expect to see Suetleug keeping company with a knight."
Gullak lifted the hide, wiped his face with it, and stalked out of the stable, walking off to the side.
The building he entered looked like a storeroom, and it was crammed with all manner of junk.
Gullak cleared himself a rough spot and sat down — alone. Suetleug cleared his throat.
"Shouldn't you be offering your guests a seat?"
"You get a seat when I acknowledge you as guests. I haven't yet. What brings you here?"
"We've come seeking the aid of an exceptional mage."
Gullak snorted. Knowing Suetleug's usual character, it was an absurd claim. Mages, as a rule, believed themselves the cleverest creatures in existence.
"You know what it takes to be received as a guest in a mage's home, don't you? Here to take the trial, are you?"
It was an old tradition: those who sought a mage's hospitality had to pass the mage's trial first.
At those words, Johan recalled the great game he had played with Suetleug.
"Was that game the trial?"
"No. I just like the game. Besides, that wasn't my home to begin with, was it?"
"Ah."
"So — will you take it, or not?"
"Must we really? An old friend comes calling, and you reach for dusty old customs."
"Yes. We're taking it."
Gullak grumbled but would not yield an inch. He seemed to find Suetleug insufferable and wanted nothing more than to knock the man down a peg for once.
Johan asked quietly:
"What sort of trial is it?"
"One you'll enjoy."
Having answered Johan, Suetleug sighed as if there were no way around it and spoke up.
"Then there's nothing for it. Here — try it against this knight."
"Suetleug. You won't do it yourself?"
"Don't be absurd. How could I possibly do such a thing?"
"And dumping it on a knight isn't absurd? Wounds to one's honor sometimes hurt more than wounds to the flesh, you know."
For all his talk, Gullak rolled up his sleeves and came forward. Whether he humiliated the man Suetleug brought, or humiliated Suetleug himself, it amounted to the same thing — that was what he'd decided.
Johan asked:
"So what exactly is the trial?"
"If you're a knight, you'll know it well. You grab hold of each other and put the other man on the ground. That's all. Simple, no?"
"Oh..."
In a word: a contest of brute strength!
Johan looked at Suetleug. Suetleug nodded back with a pleasantly smug expression.
Judging by that face, he'd been looking forward to this all day.
Only Gullak, oblivious to the undercurrents, urged the two on with an innocent look.
"What are you waiting for? Get on with it. I'll make sure no one gets hurt, so don't fret."
"Well... hmm... ah, fine. Nothing for it. Let's do this."
Johan stepped forward and took hold of Gullak's arm. Gullak took hold of Johan's.
Gullak clicked his tongue.
If Suetleug was the sage of the Ipael River, Gullak was the wild man of the Black Forest. He was one who had been captivated by the mysteries held within the forest's nature and beasts, and one who had inherited their power. He had been especially close with bears, and thanks to that, he could command a measure of a bear's strength.
Challenging Gullak to a test of strength was little different from challenging a bear to one.
And knowing this, Suetleug had cheerfully dumped the defeat onto this poor young knight.
"Shall I begin when I say so?"
"Do as you like."
"Right. Then... begin!"
"...?"
Gullak was bewildered. The knight before him hadn't moved so much as an inch. Gullak's face reddened, the veins standing out on his brow — and still Johan did not budge.
Beside them, Suetleug burst out laughing. Only then did Gullak realize he'd been had.