We entered the barony of Bersi in the Lorraine region—more precisely, the village of Pommetra within it.
"Distribute these among the soldiers."
Baron Bersi welcomed us with genuine warmth. He was not of the breed that spoke idle falsehoods. The baron carefully wrote out a billeting order and handed it over; this was, so to speak, a free pass.
When a soldier went to the house named on the order, the householder had to put the soldier up for the night without a word of complaint. It was a duty the peasants of this age bore toward their lord as a matter of course. Whether the army was their own country's or a foreign one's, lodging was arranged in this fashion.
That said, as with all duties, providing lodging was by no means a welcome one.
Into a house where a wife and daughter dwell in cozy peace, an outsider suddenly intrudes. It's an enormous strain. Having to feed and shelter some grim-faced soldier for free is a nuisance and nothing less. What's more, our side was mostly dwarves and elves……utterly alien strangers to the villagers. It was their lord's command, so they'd obey for now, but they'd be brimming with discontent.
Rest assured, however, my good mercenaries and assassins.
Drawing a pouch from my breast, I spoke to Baron Bresi.
"Pardon me, my lord baron. Do you have silver and copper coin enough on hand?"
"Hm? Forgive me. I did not grasp your question. Ask it again."
"One hundred librae. If you would exchange it into copper, I'd like to distribute it among the escort guard of my pilgrimage."
Baron Bresi, in the midst of dashing off billeting notes, came to an abrupt stop.
"……One hundred librae? Hold on. There isn't copper enough here to exchange so vast a sum."
"Whatever cannot be exchanged, kindly convert into goods in kind, however you see fit. Flour will do, a bit of meat will do, vegetables will do. Better to arrive with the makings of a bubbling stew in hand than empty-handed—it would be good for the villagers and for us alike."
I handed the coin pouch to the baron's squire. The squire opened the pouch and looked inside.
"Gah."
The squire, a man in his mid-twenties, trembled in his hands. He nodded toward his master.
"I-I can't say for certain whether it's exactly one hundred librae, but……th-there's a great heap of gold coin. I've never seen this much hard coin in my life, my lord."
"Hm."
Baron Bersi's expression changed. For the sake of his dignity he couldn't bring himself to check the pouch, and his face fairly itched with the restraint.
That was it. If it wasn't free but paid for in coin, the story changed entirely. Baron Bersi, who until now had regarded me with the eyes of a host looking at a guest, all at once shifted to the eyes of a card sharp who's landed a mark. What is a man who cheerfully hands over a hundred gold to lodge a single night, if not a mark?
"Squire. Take a dozen or so of the village's young men and ride for the county seat this instant. I permit you to take two carts. Buy up as many sacks of flour, as much meat and vegetables as you can. I give you half a day."
"H-half a day, you say?"
The county seat referred to the capital of the domain a count governs. It was likely the largest village or town in these parts.
"My lord. That's really rather……"
"I'll lend you my own personal warhorses. Should so much as a scratch come to them, count yourself dead."
"Gah! Your command is received!"
The squire dashed off in a flurry. Luckily for him, there was no need to go house to house rounding up soldiers. Some forty soldiers were still gathered in the village square. When he shouted something or other in the square, the soldiers all raised a roar—hurrah!—turned toward us.
"I misjudged. Far from unwelcome guests, you are people who bring good fortune. Graciously forgive my discourtesy."
Baron Bersi's very manner of speech changed wholesale. He was using respectful language toward me, who looked a good deal younger than himself. It seemed he'd concluded that this was no ordinary priest of the temple. Even so, to shift his speech without so much as the twitch of an eyebrow……his nerve was no ordinary thing.
I smiled softly.
"Though I was born of noble blood in my youth, I am already one who has renounced the world. One who has volunteered to stand beneath the goddess must carry himself lower than any other soul in the world. Pray, do lower your speech to me."
"If that puts you more at ease."
Well now, would you look at that? Once again, without batting an eye, he reverted to plain speech. Blue blood meant the bloodline of nobility. Even after I'd told him I was noble by birth, he'd simply brushed it aside. The gentleman before me pleased me more and more.
Baron Bersi's face, which in his youth had surely been handsome, had weathered its storms wisely, and there was a dependable something to it, like a great tree grown straight and true. Even with a hundred gold changing hands right before him, his body and mind had already settled, and he was at ease.
The barony looked poor at a glance. And yet a landed noble was a landed noble, it seemed. The man wore stability and dignity naturally against his very skin. Most likely, though I couldn't say for certain, his house had a long history. He was no upstart noble raised up overnight.
A gentle air flowed between the baron's people and our side. As ever, money was the tool that greased the wheels anytime, anywhere.
"The Double-Edged Axe mercenaries, was it? A very gentlemanly lot."
"We are no mercenary band. Merely pilgrims wandering here and there for the goddess's sake."
"Indeed. I've committed a slip of the tongue."
We sat in a corner of the square and traded pleasant talk of this and that.
It was midday. Going indoors would only be cold, so basking in the warm sunlight like this was the better choice. From somewhere or other a large wooden table had been carried out and set in one corner of the square, and the lord's family and our leadership gathered round it.
"Your bodies must be stiff from the long journey. It's humble fare, but I hope you'll enjoy it."
The people carried out soup by the cauldronful. It must have just been boiled, for the broth was thick. There was no white bread, but bread soft enough piled up like a low hill. Our company fell on the soup and bread ravenously. On top of this, wine warmed with honey stirred in made the rounds. It was a feast, no less.
An unseasonable village festival had broken out.
Baron Bersi provided bread and soup free of charge not only to us but to the villagers as well. Even the old women and children who'd been holed up in their houses came flocking to the square. The young men flung off their arms and armor and passed beer back and forth, carousing in a merry uproar.
"Drink! Drink! Drink!"
"Bwahaha! I'll show you the dignity of my green-bearded dwarf race!"
There was no better setting than a festival for outsiders to blend in. The mercenaries melted into the villagers in no time. Toasts rang out at the top of everyone's lungs, and a contest sprang up on the spot over who could hold the most drink. Dwarves were a breed that might flee from a battle, but would sooner die than yield in a drinking bout. Under the warm winter sun, the air of the village grew hot and lively.
"My thanks. Thanks to you, I get to see the winter off in good spirits."
Baron Bersi drained his wine. Perhaps because the drink had gotten into him, his voice had loosened a little. A bitter tinge showed through it.
"Our domain is small, but well-off. In the last two hundred years the house has never once changed hands. We'd stockpiled grain enough to weather a lean year in advance. And even so, we couldn't keep the starving deaths from happening……"
"These are hard times."
I offered a silent prayer. When I, a priest, bowed my head in prayer, those seated at the table followed suit. It was as if I'd become a conductor.
Oh? This is unexpectedly fun. I ought to make use of it now and again from here on. Being a priest isn't such a dull line of work after all.
"I did what I could to limit the losses, but in this village alone seven people died. Add in those who died of the plague this year, and no fewer than twenty-three souls have passed on. Can you believe it? Twenty-three dead in a single year. Not even the last battle claimed this many. No. Not this many……"
Baron Bersi shook his head lightly. The fatigue lodged in his golden hair seemed to scatter and drift into the air.
He worried over the people of his domain and labored to prevent their losses. Over the losses that could not be helped, he grieved with his whole heart. He'd even tried to keep our company from entering the village, at the risk of running afoul of political pressure.
Then again, the village's assets were, in the end, the assets of Bersi, the landed noble himself. To strive with all one's might to protect one's own assets was surely the proper duty of a landed noble. In the matter of keeping to one's duty, Baron Bersi was exemplary beyond compare.
For there are no end of people in this world who cannot keep even to that duty.
"Frankly, the mood in the village was at its lowest……"
"Forgive me. The last battle, you said. Did a war break out somewhere nearby?"
From the baron's manner of speaking, it wasn't a battle from long ago. If a battle had happened recently, it might have been royalists and republicans coming to blows. It wasn't something I could easily let pass. But the baron's account was far more down-to-earth.
"Ah. Bandits rose up nearby. It was a mere four months ago."
"Bandits……"
"By the initial scouting reports, it was a band of some twenty. We meant to join with the other lords of the vicinity and put them down. But when we came to the fighting, it wasn't twenty—it was more than fifty. Can you imagine it? In this little region, a band of over fifty bandits sprang up."
Baron Bersi pressed a finger to the bridge of his nose.
"When I looked into it afterward, there were peasants who'd fled their villages, and even slash-and-burn folk, mixed in among them. The damned gentry of the neighboring districts failed to manage their own domain's people properly. Unable to bear the hunger, they'd simply turned bandit."
For the first time, Baron Bersi's words grew heated. It seemed he was likely the only proper landed noble in the vicinity. From my standpoint, though, it felt a touch excessive.
The barony straddled the imperial road. It had dipped a toe, so to speak, into the milk-vein of Frankish commerce. On the lodging fees alone that merchant caravans paid to stay in the village, it could accumulate wealth on a wholly different order from other domains.
The domains that enjoyed such good fortune were a tiny minority……there were scarcely any that could withstand the one-two punch of plague and famine. The baron's censure was a little unreasonable. Well—even if I understood the position of a baron who'd lost precious people of his domain to an absurdly swollen band of bandits.
"It's much the same everywhere. There are no end of lords saddled with military service on account of the cursed Crescent Alliance. Plague, famine, and now a great war—these days nothing but ill tidings ever reach the ear."
Ah, that would be my doing. My apologies.
In any case, the wine was delicious. Mm. Whether it was the generous helping of honey or not, the flavor ran deep. Splendid……was there some fine vineyard nearby, perhaps? I ought to buy a little to take with me later. Habsburg wine had all soured like vinegar and wasn't fit to touch the lips.
I don't even hope for a Valergnon vintage of '505 like the one I gave Barbatos—I just crave, at the very least, a wine decent enough that you needn't cut it with water……I'm a Demon Lord, so I've hardly any need of sleep or food. All I want is wine enough to give my tongue a bit of pleasure. Mm. Splendid. Delicious again on the second sip……
Beside me, Jeremy was smiling for some reason, all smiles. She knew the whole story behind the Crescent Alliance. No doubt she was itching to tell the baron, 'This very gentleman is the mastermind who engineered the cursed Crescent Alliance.'
Quiet, Jeremy. Even if the baron heard such a tale, it would only trouble him. There's such a thing as manners in this world. Letting the moment pass in silence at a time like this is what's truly for the other person's sake. You lot need to learn the art of consideration. Take after me.
Unaware that a certain glance had passed between the two of us, the baron raised his voice.
"And now the high and mighty say they'll even wage a civil war. It's a truly damnable thing. Do you understand now why I said I care nothing for royalists or republicans?"
"Of course."
Yes, I understood very well that, this place aside, most of the domain folk are one step from erupting. Henceforth too I shall labor diligently as the seventy-first-ranked Demon Lord.
Wetting my gullet with wine, I smiled gently.