Chapter 85

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This was an age that had yet to conquer the darkness of night. When darkness fell thick, people believed demons and monsters lurked beyond it. Of course, some actually did exist.

Every region had its share of eerie folktales and legends. But none dared send a shiver through a brave knight's household.

Only a few candles on the table lit the dark dining room, dimly illuminating the fronts of those seated around it: Ricard and Marie, his father, his eldest brother and sister-in-law, and his nephew.

There was no cheerful conversation. Everyone focused silently on eating, tearing bread to dip in soup, slicing salted meat, or adding butter to their food. There was no cutlery beyond their knives; otherwise, they used their hands.

Marie kept glancing around throughout the excessively quiet meal. Ricard's sister-in-law fed her young son little by little, letting him taste each dish, while the boy stared fixedly at Uncle Riki.

Unlike his taciturn father and grandfather, Uncle Riki sometimes smiled when their eyes met. Fritzrit found that fascinating, and liked him for it.

With his blond hair and plump cheeks, Ricard's little nephew looked like a doll. When the boy beamed at him, he could not help smiling back.

"I heard you were poisoned."

Apparently finished with his meal, Ricard's father, Abelich, made the offhand remark as he wiped his hands and mouth.

"Yes, well, I'm fine now."

"I doubt that. I know little about poison, but if breathing it in was enough to make you bleed, it won't heal easily. When you have time, visit the main house and see Doctor Reno."

It was his own way of showing concern. Ricard nodded and said he would.

Without asking his son how he was doing or how he had spent his long time away, Abelich rose from his seat, leaving it at that. He hadn't changed.

"I'm tired. I think I'll turn in early."

He seemed to be deliberately giving them some space. Staying would only make them uncomfortable.

He could have been a little more affectionate, but this was how the men of House Kaldebern in Stormhertz showed consideration.

He neither lavished a warm welcome on his long-absent son nor made him feel unwelcome. He simply treated him as he always had, as though they had been together only yesterday.

Marie, of course, was a different matter.

"My dear, you saved my son's life, and you are his betrothed. That makes this your home. Make yourself as comfortable as you please. I, too, shall treat you as one of the family."

That was a degree of affection one might witness only once in a lifetime, if ever.

"... Oh? Yes. Thank you."

Marie had been staring blankly, not even realizing he was speaking to her, before she hastily answered. The atmosphere in this household was so solemn that it struck her that Ricard was actually one of its more cheerful members.

After Abelich left, Ricard's sister-in-law rose with her son.

"Fritz? It's time for us to go night-night too, isn't it? Say good night to your father, uncle, and aunt."

"Mm... Night-night."

Adorable little thing that he was, he still stood up straight and gave a proper bow. Ricard wanted to give him a present, but had nothing on him. Once he went out and earned some money, he would have to send him something.

When his sister-in-law began clearing the dishes, Marie tried to help. A small tussle ensued, but it was an entirely heartwarming sight.

"Oh, there's no need. Really, it's all right."

"Please, I'm an adventurer. I'm good at this sort of thing."

As a Sword Master, Marie could snatch the dishes away with a flick of her hands. She whisked them off so naturally that no offense could be taken.

Eventually, only the eldest and youngest of the three brothers remained in the dining room. As though bringing his day to a close, Graut poured wine into a drinking horn.

"Want a drink?"

"No. I can't handle alcohol."

"You finally got out of the domain, and you didn't even drink?"

"It never really appealed to me."

"Then have one now."

Graut held out the cup he had already filled. Ricard took a sip, tasted nothing but bitterness, and grimaced.

Graut smiled faintly, poured wine into another cup, and took a sip himself.

"The Emperor's dead. Will things be all right?" Ricard asked.

"Who knows? That's for the main house to decide. We don't really know."

"And the main house follows the duke. Brummbear, was it?"

Under feudalism, unless a monarch was your direct liege, it scarcely mattered whether an emperor or a king died.

House Kaldebern had received its domain from an emperor in the past, but it was not directly bound to him as a vassal.

It owed allegiance to Duke Brummbear, whose house was a cadet branch of the imperial family. The circumstances behind that arrangement were somewhat complicated, but in any event, the duke was the Emperor's direct vassal.

In other words, the Emperor's death directly affected major figures such as kings, dukes, and margraves. It was not a problem for the lord of some rural backwater to worry about.

Of course, if war broke out, kings and dukes took up arms, and their vassals were summoned en masse, that would be another matter. But it was too early to say anything yet.

What mattered was how the great nobles took the Emperor's death, and how they reacted.

Some might wonder what it had to do with them. Others might see an opportunity, or even try to declare independence while the imperial household was weakened.

For now, there was no predicting what would happen next. Even if they could predict it, there was nothing they could do.

"How's life as an adventurer? What was the academy like?"

"If you want to give it some meaning, I help people in trouble and sort out problems. Things like that. It all comes down to solving things with a sword, though. Life at the academy wasn't bad. For me, anyway."

"I knew it. You were never an ordinary child. I wonder how things might have turned out if we'd discovered your talent a little sooner. Or if you'd been born a little earlier."

"Why are you asking that?"

"I wonder."

There was something bitter in Graut's expression. He had been taking on more and more of the domain's administration, and the burden was weighing heavily on him.

Telling people things they didn't want to hear, treating them sternly, sometimes driving them hard—such things wore away at the mind. Protecting and leading a domain meant doing plenty of things one would rather not do.

There was a reason their father was so taciturn, and Graut was growing more like him by the day.

"Is something troubling you?"

"..."

Graut said nothing, but he clearly had something on his mind. Ricard did not press him. He waited, sipping his wine.

"Just... keep this from Father."

"That takes me back. We used to have so many secrets. Billy would tell everyone, then say it was a secret. And eventually Mother would find out."

Young as he had been then, Ricard had never once revealed a secret shared among the brothers.

Graut chuckled, as though remembering those days, but his expression soon clouded with worry again.

He hesitated for a long while, looking embarrassed and reluctant, before finally speaking.

"You know the adventurers' guild? Do you know anyone there?"

"... I do, yes. At the Beringen Guild, at least. Why?"

"Well, could you... get the commission fee reduced?"

"What's going on?"

Unable to meet Ricard's eyes, Graut hesitated again before answering.

"Father's against it. He says our affairs are ours to handle, and we can't ask outsiders for help."

That sounded like Father. But what had happened? Ricard waited for him to continue.

Graut took a long drink of wine before speaking.

"There have been a lot of outsiders around lately because of the swordsmanship tournament. Most are thugs. Driving off or killing the likes of them is easy enough. But one day, a man came claiming to be the Emperor's sheriff. He said he needed to feed his soldiers and demanded food or money. His clothes, documents, and entourage all looked convincing."

Listening, Ricard began to get a rough idea of what had happened, though it still made him uneasy.

"The imperial household had never demanded anything of us directly before. But there really was a swordsmanship tournament, and it had stirred things up around here, so I thought perhaps this was a special case. I gave him food."

"And then you found out he was a fraud?"

In short, he had been swindled. It seemed hard to believe such a thing was possible, but every so often, someone did have the audacity to cheat nobles.

The classic example was selling fake holy relics. This particular scheme, though, had been rather convincing.

"If that were all, I wouldn't have brought it up. Apparently he swindled people all over, not just us. Then he used the proceeds to put together an actual force of sorts. How long can a rabble like that last? But now he's openly threatening us, demanding money. Naturally, we ignore him. The problem is that he's roaming the area, claiming he's going to restore order."

It was obvious he was using law and order as a pretext for robbery. And since he was operating outside the domain, the family could do nothing about him.

Had the imperial household still been firmly in control, it would have crushed these upstarts without a second thought. But in its present chaos, that was too much to hope for.

Left alone, men like that could build up their strength until they grew as uncontrollable as a swarm of locusts, plundering everywhere.

Were these already the first signs of troubled times? All manner of ridiculous scum seemed to be running rampant.

What particularly enraged Ricard was that they had dared lay a hand on his family and home.

"What's his name?"

"Luisinant. Apparently they call him 'the Lucky.' Luisinant the Lucky."

"Sounds like a western name."

They probably pronounced it differently in the west. In any case, it had been a major tournament, and some strange bastard seemed to have drifted in from far away.

"Probably."

Graut merely fidgeted with his empty cup, apparently ashamed and embarrassed to be discussing this with his younger brother. The sight only made Ricard angrier.

"Graut."

"Hm?"

"Look up. Why are you shrinking into yourself like that?"

"..."

"Have I laughed at you? Have I thrown my weight around because I've made a bit of a name for myself as an adventurer? I know running a domain isn't easy. And absurd things happen in life. So don't let it get you down."

Graut's eyes widened. There had been one occasion before Ricard left home when he had rebelled in his own way, but in Graut's memories, his youngest brother was still gentle little Riki.

Now, though, he had a warrior's eyes.

"I've traveled enough to know. One look at people's faces tells me whether their lord governs them well. The people here look happy, so you must be doing a good job helping Father. That's what matters. Don't let a bastard like that keep you up at night. I'm leaving tomorrow. My friends will be worried. I'd like to stay longer, but I'm afraid I can't. Keep the commission money. You'll have good news soon. Don't worry."

There was no convenient way to send a message, and if Ricard was going to arrange a messenger, he might as well return himself. That was why he wanted to get back to Ehrenberg quickly.

Graut, meanwhile, simply blinked and stared at him.

"You really have grown up, haven't you?"

"Well, I've spent three years living by the sword. Did you think I'd still be a little shit?"

Ricard laughed as he said it. Graut tilted his head, apparently still unable to get used to this version of his brother.

"Any word from Billy?"

Graut shook his head. Unfortunately, it seemed there was none. Refilling his empty cup, he said,

"I suppose I still can't be like Father. So, what was the academy like? Tell me about it."

"Never mind the academy. Have you ever seen a vampire? Or the sea? You probably wouldn't believe half the things I've seen and heard."

"Hey, you've only been gone three years, and now you're treating me like a country bumpkin?"

"Well, you are from the country, aren't you?"

"You little...!"

"Hahahaha!"

Perhaps the wine was beginning to take effect, for the brothers finally began teasing each other. A layer of the lingering awkwardness seemed to fall away.

The world was harsh enough that brothers coming to blows with swords was hardly unusual, yet few things could inspire a sense of kinship like shared blood.

Ricard and Graut drank late into the night, airing their troubles and reminiscing.

After falling asleep drunk, Ricard woke to find his face buried in Marie's breasts. He sat up in alarm, gathered his wits, and opened the window to clear his head. It was already well into the morning. Damn.

His father and brother went out on patrol early. He had missed his chance to say goodbye.

They could have put their work off a little for a son who had come home after so long, but that simply wasn't how this family did things. In their view, fresh food and a warm bed were enough. Why make a point of being affectionate?

Ricard could sometimes be so detached that others found him cold. Perhaps that, too, was a family trait.

Work had to be done. If their paths failed to cross, that couldn't be helped. They wished one another well, and if they had the chance to meet again, they would.

So Ricard felt no hurt at all. On the contrary, he was glad nothing had changed.

He woke Marie, washed, and prepared for the journey. Just as they were saying goodbye to his sister-in-law and nephew, she called out urgently.

"Oh, that's right! This! Take this with you, Young Master. My husband asked me to give it to you. He bought it with the money from selling the horses."

Apparently, they had sold the two horses Abelich had acquired after killing the bandits when he met Marie. They were carriage horses, so keeping them would only cost money without serving any purpose. Selling them was the better choice.

The gift from his eldest brother was a sword. Ricard normally used a longsword or a greatsword, but this was an arming sword, also known as a knight's sword—a one-handed weapon, since knights had to carry shields.

Its round iron pommel, which balanced the blade, was engraved with the family's emblem: a cross.

It was not his usual weapon, but he knew how to handle one. It would also be easier to carry at his waist as a secondary weapon. Until now, he had carried his sword over his shoulder.

"Thank you. I'll put it to good use."

"And Father insists you visit the main house first. He wants you to see Doctor Reno before you go."

Affectionate he might not be, but that was enough for Ricard to feel his father's concern and love. He smiled gently.

"Wherever you go, never bow and scrape. Hold your head high and act bravely. Take good care of him for me, sister. May you both have fortune in battle."

True to her place in a knightly family, she said nothing about keeping out of harm's way. Ricard stroked his nephew's hair one last time and said goodbye.

"Be good, Fritz. I'll be going, then. Come on, Marie."

With his new sword at his waist, Ricard set off. He did not look back, almost to the point of seeming heartless.

He had rested enough, received what he needed, and had nothing to leave behind here. What he would leave them was something else entirely: the good news he had promised his eldest brother.

Rather than visiting the main house first, Ricard went in search of the bastard called Luisinant the Lucky.

He had merely hidden it in front of his family. Ever since the previous evening, the urge to kill had been seething inside him.

That rotten son of a bitch. He was going to kill him.