by Kumo Kagyu
“M-milady archbishop…!”
She was leaning against the window frame, emphasizing the soft curves of her body; the soldiers swallowed and stood up straighter.
Was there any man alive who wouldn’t be anxious if he were fixed with that smile and those—unseeing—eyes?
“P-please pardon our indiscretion. You may proceed directly inside!”
Sword Maiden smiled gently and nodded, but she seemed to be privately sighing inside that abundant chest. Priestess, for her part, felt she could sympathize.
They say that privilege is power, but it would be so easy to abuse it…
Sword Maiden, however, let none of this show on her face. She stretched a thin, beautiful arm out of the carriage, reaching out to one of the soldiers.
“Procedure is procedure, isn’t it?” she said. “Would you be so kind as to give me the book?”
“Y-yes, ma’am! Immediately! Y-you there, write faster…!”
“All right,” Goblin Slayer said, sliding the pen along the page.
Priestess pouted helplessly, but when she glanced over, she saw his scrawl running along the line. In the letters, just discernible one from the other, she suddenly felt an odd sense of closeness to him.
“Will this do?”
“Hrmph, fine…!” The soldier swept up the book and hurriedly offered it through the window of the carriage. Sword Maiden took it and flipped the pages, somehow uncertain; her attendant helped her.
Priestess took all this in then looked aside to where Goblin Slayer was standing. He stared up at the massive gate as if not really thinking about anything in particular.
“…Anything wrong?” Priestess asked, looking up at him.
“No,” Goblin Slayer said with a slow shake of his head. “I was thinking So this is the capital.”
“Ah…” Priestess followed his gaze upward. The gate was so tall it hurt her neck trying to look all the way up. “…Me, I’ve never been here before. What about you, Goblin Slayer, sir?”
“It will be my first time as well,” he said softly. “I always wanted to bring my older sister here one day.”
Priestess felt her heart grow warm. The warmth spread to her cheeks.
“I’m sure you’ll get a chance sometime,” she said.
Goblin Slayer was silent for a moment. Then the helmet shook slowly again. “It would be nice to get a chance.”
Not long after, the paperwork was finally over. Goblin Slayer and the others walked through the gate and entered the capital.
“Argh, my big brother’s the worst!” The girl danced on the bed, her hands pounding the blankets. “He gets to go here, there, and everywhere, while I’m not even allowed to go outside!”
“He can’t help that, right? It’s his job.”
“But they say the fiery stone from heaven fell on the mount…”
“Were you not told not to speak of that so carelessly?” Her friend and servant, the person who took care of her affairs, gave her a strained look. It was the same expression the girl got every time she complained about her older brother who hurried from one place to the next.
It only made sense that the woman should find the girl’s rants discomfiting, given that the girl’s brother was her employer. The child knew that perfectly well, but human nature kept her from really accepting it.
“Big Brother, he used to be an adventurer, but when I say I want to be an adventurer, he gets all upset.”
“That’s because he knows the evil and the painful as well as the good.”
Bah. He hadn’t even taken an arrow to the knee. The girl puffed out her cheeks and gazed out the window.
Even from the earliest hours of the morning, an immense stream of people came and went from the capital. Every kind of person came from everywhere in the world, for every conceivable reason. She would never get to experience it, locked up in this room her whole life.
“Lucky them…”
“Are you truly so eager to go outside?”
“Well, sure I am,” the girl replied immediately, rolling over on her bed.
“It’s not all good things out there,” her friend said diffidently.
One outrageous plan after another went through the girl’s head as she glared at the ceiling. She had heard stories of towns where girls were expected to leave home at a certain age, almost as a rite of passage. So why shouldn’t she—and why shouldn’t she become an adventurer?
Maybe one day I’ll kick those walls down. As if I could.
Everyone has had similar fantasies. Most, of course, never act on them. They know that so many fail and meet trouble in the process.
But then, no one who doesn’t act on those fantasies can ever succeed. Neither Fate nor Chance can tell you how the dice will land; the only thing you can do is roll them.
Only those who had never rolled the dice, the girl thought, could sit and offer platitudes. But at the moment, she wasn’t even allowed to roll the dice. It rankled her terribly.
I hate it when people just make decisions for me.
Decisions about the future, about what she could do, about the world—about everything.
One day, she would likely be betrothed and then married. It was more or less unavoidable, and she knew that.
But I haven’t seen anything yet.
She’d heard the world was overflowing with damage caused by goblins. She had heard songs about a hero who assaulted a fortress atop a mountain of ice to rescue a damsel in distress. The king and his ministers and the court mages and the army, they had all known about the goblins, yet none of them had done anything.
Because they had never seen it, I’m sure.
Even her brother—he said he had once been an adventurer, but he refused to share any stories of his adventures with her. He had probably just let his party members protect him. In all likelihood, he hadn’t been all that important.
He probably didn’t even know anything about goblins.
“Hmm… That makes sense.”
She couldn’t decide because she had never seen.
She had to see for herself and then make a choice.
The gods might be the ones who rolled the dice, but it was she who decided what to do.
“…Tell me, you said your big brother is a merchant, right?”
“Yes. Though he’s my cousin. He leaves the moment they open the gate every morning, makes his sales, and then comes home,” her friend explained, apparently under the impression that the mercurial girl’s thoughts had already turned to other things.
“Huh,” the girl said, crossing her arms where she sat on the bed. Her mind bounced from one thing to the next.
Then suddenly, her friend looked out the window and said, “Oh my.”
“What’s going on?”
“It seems your honorable brother has returned home.”
“Really?!”
“Yes, I see his carriage there.” Almost before her friend was finished speaking, the girl had jumped out of bed. She ignored the woman’s attempts to make her change and went flying out of the room.
Passing servants looked at her in amazement; then they would realize whom it was and simply sigh in resignation.
“Welcome home, Big Brother!”
She greeted him as warmly as she could, thinking:
Now he’ll never suspect I’m going to sneak out tonight.
After they had passed through three separate massive portcullises, the party emerged into a dizzying bustle.
The first thing they saw was crop fields, probably dating from before the building of the castle walls. A lengthy aqueduct connected to a large building puffing smoke.
The idyllic scene, though, contrasted sharply with the milling crowds of people.
The path soon changed to flagstone and was swallowed up by the ancient town. People hurried down the path like a flood. Whispering voices and the scuff of sandals on stone combined until they sounded almost musical.
“A-are you sure there isn’t a festival…?” Priestess as
ked, her eyes nearly spinning.
High Elf Archer giggled and flicked her ears. “This is about how it usually is,” she said. “Human cities are always so busy, I’m pretty used to it by now.” Then she flinched uncomfortably. “I have to admit, though… This place does seem a little more cramped than a lot of other towns.”
She was right about that. There were at least as many people inside the gate as outside. People pushed their way along the streets; dressed in the latest fashions, they made each road look like a river of color.
Standing on either side of the flagstone street were buildings, both those that had been there since antiquity and those recently, or sometimes repeatedly, refurbished. The capital had no ceiling, but the mess of pathways winding around the castle town made it feel a bit like a dungeon. Perhaps a city that was thousands of years old wasn’t so different from one of those ancient ruins.
“Say, milords an’ ladies. How about a little help finding your way around?” A man, hunched over with age, approached them with an old lantern in hand.
Many large cities had guides like him. The students learning magic helped light the city’s streetlights, but many smaller pathways remained pitch black.
“We do not have trouble seeing in the dark,” Goblin Slayer replied before Priestess could say anything.
The man blinked but then took in the elf, dwarf, and lizardman. “No, I s’pose not,” he said with a laugh. “Pardon me very much. If you should need me, call anytime…”
Then, still smiling pleasantly, the old man shuffled away into the dark.
“Awful inconvenient being a human, huh? You can’t even see in dark places,” High Elf Archer opined as she watched him go. “I wonder what happens when he can’t get customers.”
“Turns tour guide, I’ll bet,” Dwarf Shaman said knowingly, looking on with great interest. “Doesn’t help to see in the dark if you don’t know where you’re going.”
Lizard Priest looked around, taking in the millennia-old town as he ran the carriage along a series of wheel ruts. “Well then, milady archbishop. What do you intend to do now?”
“That’s a good question,” Sword Maiden said with curiosity from inside the carriage. “I’d like to ask you to take me to the temple, but have you been to the capital before?”
“To my grave shame, I must admit this is my first time.” Lizard Priest rolled his eyes in his head and opened his jaws happily. “As it is, I might suspect, for everyone in our party.”
“Then, would you be so kind as to direct the carriage where I tell you?” She sounded almost happy.
From beside her, her acolyte said reprovingly, “Milady archbishop, you need not lower yourself to personally providing—”
Sword Maiden’s luscious lips relaxed into a smile. “Many of the streets around here have names, but so few have signs to tell you what they are.” This place wasn’t built with travelers in mind. She giggled. The sound came from somewhere deep in her throat. “I can at least serve as our guide—so that’s something.”
The adventurers walked casually alongside the carriage as it rumbled along the rutted streets. It seemed they would never get lost following the instructions of the blind Sword Maiden.
It was twilight, the sky starting to turn purple, and the crowding of the capital was especially intense. Being with the carriage allowed them to walk down the middle of the road, but otherwise, they would have been crushed in the crowd. Residents of the capital walked around like they owned the place—which was fair enough—but travelers showed no special regard for other people, either.
The glut of buildings and surrounding fortified walls made the air turgid, and the sun hardly reached street level. It felt as if, were you to get lost in the dark, you would never find your way again. That much was true.
But…
As they looked around, they saw the smoke of cookfires drifting from houses here and there; they smelled dinner being readied. They saw men leaving work and heading for places of drink and merriment. Women trying to attract the men to their various establishments.
Some old men, who had the time to get into their cups early, were sitting by a building on stools, having a competition of some kind. Metal figures of swordsmen were placed on a board with square spaces, and they then moved them about by playing cards.
Some kids noticed them playing, and set up by the roadside with their own little game that they shouted and cheered over. They drew a small circle with spaces in the dirt for a board, using stones for tanks. They moved the stones based on the numbers on their cards; there were occasional shouts of “Long live the King!” at which everyone was apparently required to cheer.
But time is as time does. Mothers called to their sons and daughters, and children answered with “Aww!” but headed home.
The old men watched the kids go, grinned to themselves, and started another game.
By taking five pawns, they could get someone to treat them to a drink—so each of them was bent on winning.
A hawker, meanwhile, held polished, round farsight crystals, claiming they were from another country.
The onset of twilight brought men out to go drinking, and his metal helmet followed them closely.
“…”
Priestess scrunched up her eyes, happy for some reason. She liked the scent of people going about their business. The aroma that permeated the air in these few minutes between when the sun began to sink and when it was gone entirely. Be it in village or town, or even in the capital itself, it was always the same.
In her heart, she recited a scripture passage by way of a prayer to the Earth Mother; her steps were light as they headed toward the temple.
It was the first time in her life she had been to the capital. She wasn’t immediately enamored, but she certainly didn’t dislike it, either.
And then, as she looked around here and there, she found her attention seized by one thing in particular: the students, holding long staves and dressed in black cloaks as they went about the city lighting the lanterns.
Priestess blinked and bit her lip then rushed after the others.
§
The temple—the worship hall of the Supreme God, who governed Order and Chaos—stood in the same quarter of the city as the rest of the houses of worship. It was certainly more elaborate than the Earth Mother’s temple in the frontier town, but it couldn’t compare with that of the Supreme God in the water town.
It was certainly big, and there were a great many visitors, a crowd of people going in to seek justice despite the hour. And yet it had almost no decorations. Just white walls, a pointed roof, and the sign of the sword and scales…and that was it. A spirit of simplicity in architecture sounded very good, but in practice it turned out rather plain.
“In the capital, it’s just one temple out of many,” Sword Maiden informed them.
“Is that the story?” High Elf Archer muttered. “I was sure the Great Hero’s god would get an especially nice temple.”
“Well, even my own residence is in the water town.”
The carriage came to a stop, and Sword Maiden’s attendant helped her mistress onto the flagstone street. Even though she used the sword and scales like a staff, it was still impressive that she dismounted without so much as a wobble.
“Milady archbishop!”
“You’ve done well to come here, milady—welcome to our temple!”
A couple of acolytes, presumably brought out by the sound of the carriage, emerged from the temple. One was a boy and one a girl, but both their eyes were sparkling as if they were meeting their hero.
“Thank you,” Sword Maiden said, smiling back at them.
Lizard Priest handed the reins to the acolytes as he clambered down from the driver’s bench. “Now, to get the luggage… I wonder what we shall do about lodging.”
“If you’ve nowhere to stay, then by all means, please lodge at the temple.”
Sword Maiden’s attendant was already pulling the luggage down, huffing under the weight. Lizard Pr
iest took the cargo from her easily and lowered it gently to the ground.
“Well!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide, but then she squinted them again and said, “Thank you very much.”
“We have several rooms. Please, I insist.”
“Hmm. Far be it for me to turn down hospitality. Yes indeed.”
Priestess was exchanging greetings with the acolytes. High Elf Archer hopped gracefully down from the top of the carriage. “I’m in. If we’re not getting the royal suite anywhere, then it hardly matters where we stay.”
“Call it a type of reward. Fine by me—but what do you think, Beard-cutter?” Dwarf Shaman stroked his white beard and glanced at the setting sun. “You can see it’s getting late. My guess is most of the inns around here are full.”
“I don’t mind,” Goblin Slayer said shortly. Then he added, “I have no reason to object.”
Sword Maiden clasped the sword and scales tighter to her chest. Only her attendant noticed, and she sighed with a combination of exasperation and amusement.
“There is, however, something I wish to investigate. Do you have a library or the like?”
“We do,” Sword Maiden said, almost in a gasp. She spoke as soon as he said a library or the like. “I’ll show you there immediately. My own authority should be more than enough to allow you access to—”
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘pleasure before business’? Let’s put our bags down and get something to eat!” Dwarf Shaman waved a stubby hand.
“But you just had a meal!” High Elf Archer put in.
“Well, rheas make me look temperate,” Dwarf Shaman said with a shrug. “How about you, Scaly?”
“I believe it is just about time for me to get a nice, bloodied hunk of meat,” Lizard Priest replied, working his jaws and pointedly rubbing his belly with one scaly hand. “If it were to have cheese on it, so much the more fearsome.”
“I don’t mind,” Goblin Slayer said shortly. Then he added, “I have no reason to object.”
Sword Maiden clasped the sword and scales tighter to her chest. Only her attendant noticed, and she sighed with a combination of exasperation and amusement.